When I think of you, it is not just one song, one color, one moment. It is a kaleidoscope of colors, a cacophony of songs and words and a whirlwind slideshow of our memories. You are a full rainbow, radiant and full of joy, but only able to be seen after a shedding of tears. Red, for the dress I wore, silky smooth and way out there, one you picked. Red, for the back-lit fancy restaurant you took me to, the glow in the air left by candles on the table. Red, for the glint in your eye that wasn't quite loving, red as I bled for you on the white, white sheets. Orange, for the Popsicle you bought us on Midsummer’s Eve, even though I can’t stand citrus. Orange, for the towel you laid on the ground, for the food you loved and I hated. Orange, the dizzy color I saw when you spun me after a bottle of champagne. Yellow, for the fading bruises, the ones I lied about. Yellow, for the puke that burned coming up after a night spent with you, my throat raw. Yellow, the color that the noodles swam in with islands of chicken, the kind you made to help me feel better. Green, the color of your eyes when they didn't flash black with rage. Green, for your walls, your garden swarmed with flowers and fairies and promises of peaceful love. Green, the color of your jealousy when I went out without you, even to just the grocery store or library. Blue, for fresh bruises and tears that followed after you like a waterfall. Blue, surrounding me like a calm blanket, a necklace on my neck with opaque pearls that I did not want but you gave. Blue for the ice that stings my hand but soothes the hurt, blue for the crystal clarity I saw when you left. Indigo, for the sky with stars sprinkled like sugar and a moon that wished to help that I focused on. Indigo, for the blood you spilled that crawled across the floor, slow and sticky and dark.

Indigo, for the way your heart was shriveled in your chest before you met me. Violet, for fresh flowers in a vase as an apology for the petals on my skin. Violet eye-shadow covering the lies, the deceit. Violet for the concert you took me to that I can’t remember, fog filling the air and my mind. Violet words written in my bones, fading, fading slowly.

A kaleidoscope, a whirlwind, a slide show playing in my head to the tune of a full orchestra, banging and chiming and rising and falling to the beat of our love, then our hate. A bittersweet taste on my tongue when I went out the door, the sour far out weighing the sugar of your good moments. I left, and my world was gray and dark and bleak, but I was happy.