As I sit in this room I feel my problems rushing towards me; hoping to consume me. I know I won’t be able to out run them, so I let them come. I know if there was a mirror in sight my eyes would seem so dull, and part of them wants to be dull.

I read these poems to him so he will know why my eyes go dull, but he does not look at these eyes as anything more than eyes. But I realize that I cannot depend on him to fix my dull eyes. I need to fix the dullness myself.          

I see this boy looking at me, trying to figure me out; but he never will. Look all you want my dear, but you will not find me. I’ve positioned myself to a height that you will never see me for me. I know that he has felt the pain too. I know demons have haunted him on those late nights when the world seems too terrifying to be a part of. He will never know me, he will not know that those same demons have been too close to my life. He sees me as he wants to see me. And that is fine; because I do not need him to see me for what I am. I will be civil and smile and say hello for those blue eyes, but he will not know me.

I find that so many of those people who know of those demons will not see me for me. Because I do not drink, and because I do not smoke, they do not want to see me. I am a threat to them; but they do not realize, I am them. We want the world to be black and white; but I am gray.

And just in those moments when that boy keeps looking at me, trying to get me to crack, those blue eyes save me. He looks into my eyes. My eyes are deep and dull, an ocean of stories. I do not know if he sees the ocean, or the dullness, but he sees something. He knows I will not talk, not in that moment. “Nothing,” will be my only answer, so he slips his hand into mine, and places a kiss on my head. He comforts me in just the right way. He shows me it’s all okay, but lets me be in my thoughts.

In that moment my thoughts change. We want so desperately for the world to be black and white, but the world is full of color. We only trust black and white; distrust color. I am not black and white so his friends run from me. I do not smoke, and I do not drink, so the black and white world says I hate all people who do. I am color. I do not hate people for the choices they make. I do not hate people. I love them, even if I do not like what they do, even if they do not love me. I am color. I am not what I seem, I am everything I seem. I am black and white, I am color.

Those blue eyes teach me to love color. I want so desperately for the world to be simple; black and white. I love him, no questions, no problems; but the world is not black and white, it is color. There are problems, and there are questions, but there is love. Those questions and problems are beautiful because they create color in the love.

I see myself trying to hide in the wall. Trying to make myself invisible; invisible from those judgmental eyes. But maybe those eyes aren’t judgmental; maybe it’s my own eyes I am trying to hide from. As I contemplate why I run from this boy every time he enters the room, I realize I am just trying to run from myself. I am terrified that he will figure me out. I see part of myself in him, and I am afraid he will see part of me in him.

Holding grudges over moments not remembered. “He is just shy.” Maybe he is not shy; maybe he is a wallflower just like me; making connections with all things. And maybe those eyes were not judging, maybe they were feeling more than I understand.

I will not run from myself. I will not run from him. Those blue eyes love him, so I will love him, for I am him. The world is not black and white so I cannot run from all that is color. My eyes are no longer dull, they are enlightened. My heart has been closed for too long; it is time to open it, open it for love.

Society tells us to close our hearts, and be afraid of love. Be afraid of hurt and pain and growth. But we have it all wrong. Love and pain and growth are all amazing parts of life. I have realized I have been building my sand castle of love with an adult heart. Looking at it as permanent; crying when it’s over. But love never dies. You either love a person for ever, or you never loved them at all. When a wave comes and brings your castle into the vastness of the ocean, we must applaud and smile. I need to learn how to love with a child’s heart. Just because the relationship is no longer, does not mean that the love never was.

I hold on to his blue eyes; determined to make them permanent, afraid of losing the beauty.  Those blue eyes need to be set free. If there is an eternal unconditional love, those blue eyes will forever be by my side. If the love is temporal, those blue eyes must be let go, for they will stop making me grow. I need to set myself free and stop worrying about the little things. I need to let the days go by as days rather than weeks. I need to breathe and remember that all we have is here and now. Those blue eyes will always be in my heart, even if they are not by my side.

We all have our own tiles to see the rest of the floor. No tile the same image. No tile the same perspective. No tile sees the same as the rest of the titles creating the whole floor. No tile being wrong, no tile being right. I am a tile. I am different. I am color. I am black and white. All these tiles, all these colors, all this beauty.  I will learn to appreciate every tile that makes up the floor and the perspective of those tiles. I will look for myself in those other souls that I tend to run from. I will no longer run. I will be okay and stand my ground. I will hope that those other souls see the color in life. I hope they see the color in me.