Colored By Me

I remember it all so clearly. I remember the gripping desire. The need to reach into adulthood and steal a piece for ourselves. It’s almost like we knew that this time we have is finite and so much of what we will love in life, is so fleeting. Very fleeting. There are worse things than taking your own time. There are certainly worse things than going at your own pace. If every teenager would.. could learn those two things, there would be a lot fewer regrets in this world. As it is, I got lucky. I’ll be the first to admit it. I was diligent and consienscious, but I was also DAMN lucky. My scars were fine and far between. Must be my guardian angel.

I remember what it was like for my heart to swell so full, and be so heavy with want. It’s nothing to sneeze at. That genuine, physical, emotional want. It’s as real and as demanding as thirst. It’s as powerful as pain. In that newness, it is absolutely unlike anything before, and maybe anything since.

It’s in every curve of every smile. It’s in every single touch. It’s like waking up with a brand new sense. Sight to a blind man.

There’s no coming back from that. There’s no way to un-know what you have learned.

I wouldn’t change what I’ve had for the world. And even those scars, no matter how light, are still mine. They were my call. My choice. Mine. There’s definitely something to be said for that.

The world colored according to me. It's a beautiful place.