Before I met him, my world was in black and white.

When our hands touch, roses become vibrant red, the sky becomes so blue you’d think it was painted, and the world becomes alive. So many colours, and the happiness of the people shines in bright yellows and pinks.

Its so beautiful.

But the moment that connection is broken, I am cast back into darkness.

So I need to learn to paint the world myself. Each painful, tortured brushstroke without him will make my world alive.

Then I can give to him the colours he gives to me.

Because if all I see is dark, how can I be his light?


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