The Art of Blue

painting of a blind man eating a small meal looking very lonely

I don’t know why it has taken me so long to write about this color, but I think now is a good time. This is about about a girl, and amazing girl, that yet again (seriously, am I that bad) got away. But the whole story is much more complicated than that, and would take up way to much of this blog, so I will leave out some details. I hope you will forgive me for that, after all I am writing about being blue.


This girl was my best friend for a very long time. We would joke with each other at work, which maybe isn’t the best idea as that has only lead me to heart ache. But anyways, it took us a little time to even begin talking to each other, as I am extremely shy and it takes a while to open up and share with other people. Perhaps that is why I have yet to reveal my true identity on this blog. Although with a little digging it is easy enough to find out who I am really am.


Anyways, back to this girl. I think that it took so long to for us to become friends because I did have a crush on this girl. But finally we began to talk and joke around and it was like it Christmas in November, even though I might be Jewish, or Hindu. I haven’t made up my mind yet. Back to the blue. Friendship can quickly turn in to romance, and sometimes that romance is something that cannot keep going. The entire time, I knew that it would end, and yet again I would have lost not only someone I really liked, but also a friend that I could talk too.


I haven’t talked to this girl in a very long time, and each day it haunts me. Each day I’m colored in blue. Like a painting, like the art of Picasso during his blue period. I understand why it happened, but I don’t understand why it happened. My experience with this amazing lady was great, and we shared a great friendship, one that I miss terribly, and a quick romance that I miss also. But the friendship that we shared couldn’t have been better than any one that I’ve ever had. It seems that I drive my friends away as fast as I drive girls away.


But here I sit, knowing that the blue with continue to be painted on me like a despairing piece of artwork. But knowing that the blue will fade is not a comfort as you think it will be. My life will never be the same without her, and once I accept that, then I can remember the good times we had and the friendship and quick romance we shared (that’s from a movie that you should all go and see if you haven’t, and I’m not going to tell you which one. Blue doesn’t mean the color of sadness to me, it means the color of loneliness and loss. And as you know from a previous post that I wrote recently, loss is a part of life that is handed out generously.


Blue doesn’t have a plan. It shows up when you least expect it, even though you do expect it. You expect it all the time.


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