When I met you at the park, it was the colour of the sky. As we watched the lovely swans, it was the colour of the pond.
It was also the colour of the berries we liked to eat at picnics. We gazed from the beach at our dates and it was the colour of the sea.
It was the colour of the syrup we’d like to have on our pancakes during breakfast.
On the first time you asked me to dance with you, it was the colour of your shirt. It was the colour of my hair when you kissed me on my favourite band’s concert.
“Mystery,” the representation of the colour of the rose you gave me.
We were as unpredictable as the colour of the gem embedded on the ring in my left hand. Yes, it was also the colour of my dress when you asked for my hand in marriage.
Truly, we were as enigmatic as the colour phase of the moon that rarely occurs but such a sight to see.
It was the colour that felt the most significant for me. It may be the colour of ambiguity but
I knew it was the colour of our love.
Little did I know, it would be the colour of the car that would smash into you before the day of our wedding.
How I wish I could still have one chance to stare at your eyes which also features that exact same colour. That was indeed the colour that symbolises us, because it still remains a mystery to me. We fought so hard to give the colour a different meaning, but depression and sadness and grief was always it would be.
(featured image courtesy of fanpop.com)