GREY
becasue black and white is boring. Enjoy!
These dreams weren't simple. They weren't black and white. You can't get what you want, and you can't not get it. It's a compromise. Not you get it or you don't, you live or you die, you laugh or you cry. A compromise.
Crying because you're happy, living but still dead (or maybe the other way around) having what you want, but working for it. A compromise. Because it won't always work as black and white.
Most of the time it was grey.
That was what our relationship was. Not the start to all colors, and not the combined end. Just somewhere in between. Fucking and fighting, dancing and arguing. This was them. This is what it was like.
And maybe it was better that it wasn't one extreme or another. Just their grey loving and hating.
They laughed with each other, sang foolish songs, told stories that they made up. Made the sweetest of love. They called each other names, fought, argued, insulted, hurt, and fucked each other hard enough that it made them sore.
It was grey. Not raining, not sunny, just grey. Cloudy. Not crying not laughing. Just grey. Mellow.
They loved this relationship. Maybe because even if they fought, they would come back laughing again. Sometimes they needed their space. Sometimes they didn't want space, even being separated by their clothes was too far apart.
It was kind, it was cruel. Grey could be drab, grey could be simple. It just depended on your outlook on life.
Sometimes they hated grey. Sometimes they hated that they loved each other so much, or hated each other so much. Sometimes grey made them feel like being sick.
Sometimes they loved grey. The simplicity. Grey matches with anything, like picking out a shirt. They didn't need to do anymore to it. Grey was grey.
Grey was them.
And this was their relationship. Fucking and fighting and dancing and arguing. This was them for who they could be, laughing at the other's foolish antics, living without fear of that outside world. Cursing at the other's stupidity.
This was them. In all their greyness. Just living day to day, hoping it will get better, wishing it would stay the same.
And on those days they hated grey, they wouldn't see each other, they wouldn't look, because it just reminded them. One was black, one was white. It just reminded them why they were gray. Why the couldn't be pink or orange.
They hated grey. And they loved it. The couldn't accept it. They welcomed it. They didn't know what to do with it. They left it alone, because grey always came to them.
Grey wasn't easy. Not as simple as black and white. Black and white was boring. Grey was just both. And though not often they wished this relationship of theirs was black and white, plain and simple.
where would the fun in that be? Why not fight for what you want? Why not try to make things work? Why not keep slamming the piece of the puzzle in, even if it wasn't the right place? Why not?
Or maybe a better question was why? Why did they want to fight? So they could stand on their own two feet and see 'this is what we have done'. Why try to make this work? So they could look back and say 'do you remember?' why bother with the stupid puzzle?! So they could see the big picture.
Sometimes they hated grey, it wasn't all that simple, it was all mixed up. Sometimes they just wanted to escape, but they couldn't, because he was black, and he was white. Sometimes they hated confusing, conflicting grey. Sometimes they hated it for all their worth.
But hey, it was better than black and white!
OWARI!
How'd you like? I think that was my longest yet. I was reading Suffering Angel's never meant to be and I just LOVED the style it was written in. So I had to come up with something like that style. So did you like?
Hichichi: wow. How...un-angsty. It's shocking! I didn't know you had it in you!
Shut up! RXR ONEGAI!