It’s really strange that my favorite color is yellow, not a pastel shade of yellow that looks worn out,
like the sun that warms us is at its final stage of giving, but amber yellow.
It’s bright and deep at the same time and pleases me every time I lay my eyes on it.
It’s strange because my mind chose to like a visual representation of what I think happiness looks like. Not to mention, the color of the sun, which burns bright in the sky, pulsating and warming.
It’s also the opposite of how I am. I’m often not happy, and I happen to think I’m not always warm either.
I tend to shut down on people and let the growing cold in the middle of my chest freeze me over until I’m numb and I let the darkness I feel simmer to a boiling pain that I hold in.
I sometimes isolate and hide, something the color yellow naturally doesn’t do.
We are nothing alike.
on most days, when the darkness settles and the coldness in me warms up, I like to think that this specific color of yellow brings me some form of joy and satisfaction,
that maybe we aren’t opposites,
maybe we can both shine.