blue

“You play stupid games, you win stupid prizes,” – Taylor Swift

BLUE. So many memories associated with just that one single colour. Every shade of it reminds me of you. My favourite colour used to be teal, and now when I look at it, my eyes turn wet and my cheeks turn red. And I hate that about you.

The worst part is how much blue there is in our lives. The skies, the ocean, the globe on my desk; the smoothest flowing pen had blue ink too. My favourite joggers are blue and Captain America’s suit is blue. And so were your eyes. And I hate that about you.

Our first date was at my favourite café and you guessed it, the tiles and plates were ceramic blue. The cardigan that you gifted me on our anniversary that in now sitting in the donations box was also blue. You said I looked beautiful in blue and you’d quoted my favourite song (“(s)he’ll wear your favourite colour, just so (s)he can match your eyes”). And I hate that about you.

But most of all I’ll hate you for destroying my favourite candle. The blue candle than sat over the ledge of my balcony. The last gift of my grandmother that you so conveniently destroyed by telling me that blue was your favourite colour. How I’d gleamed that night, saying it was her’s too and how she would have really loved you. But in reality, she’d have hated you just as much as I do, for the pain you’ve caused me.

I can erase every physical evidence of you I have left in my apartment. I can erase every photo of yours from my phone and laptop. But as much as I try, I can’t erase your memories and your love for blue you had so conveniently passed onto me.

Which is why I’m lighting that candle by your grave till all the wax melts away. So that last of the blue in my house goes away. But don’t worry, I kept that stupid blue ring next to the melting wax. I don’t need another reminder of how you ran in front of a bus to catch this ridiculous blue ring you were going to use to propose to me that night. I don’t need another reminder of how I watched you run into the road from the side-lines. I don’t need another reminder of how I didn’t do anything to stop you and to stop this from happening.

Because now at the end of the day, you’re up in the blue skies, looking down at me while I sit crying on your grave hating at a colour and a candle for no fault of theirs.