Her Canvas

She reaches up to her neat ponytail, letting straight ink black hair fall freely to her shoulders. Hair that once emitted an eye gleaming shine, healthy looking with a glow of happiness that not only resounded from the outside, but from the inside as well. Now the strands hung lifelessly from her head, dull and black as death. She does not understand how he could have just left her for someone completely new after a year and three months' worth of sweet embraces, meaningful conversations and star glazed skys that seemed to promise them an eternity of love. But what now? The sweet embraces are a bittersweet reminisce of the past, the conversations playing in her head are but empty words. The black canvas above mocks her cruelly, as if each gleaming star represents daggers that are cutting up the night sky; cutting up her heart into pieces.

She is so frail, just like the glass bottle sitting on her desk. It contains a slender rose, red as the flush on her cheeks everytime he looked into her eyes and told her those three words with such sincerity that she could not help but give in to those eyes, a sea of blue that she eventually drowned in. The rose was given to her by him, just a few days ago before the great shatter...of everything. Before the great shatter of their relationship, before the great shatter of her heart, before the great shatter of that very bottle as her emotions passed through waves of hurt to crushing tides of anger and resentment. She threw the bottle against her closet door, shattering it and watching with a shadow of regret as the pieces plummeted down harshly, making marks onto the once smooth and polished floor. The rose lay bent and broken next to the pieces, bleeding. He had led her to their favorite spot, that one sacred spot up on lilycreek hill where they used to sit and watch the sun rise, casting a brilliant mixture of golden and red across the treetops of their quiescent city. The red was not like a destructive fire, but more of the dancing flames in the fireplace of happy homes that would warm a person up from head to toe. She had always thought sunsets were beautiful too, up until last night. They sat on the sacred spot, her enjoying the moment, completely oblivious of the devastating crash her boyfriend was about to bring upon her.

She looks in his eyes and gives him that same old smile, radiating such an amazing heartfelt light that it could have paralleled the power of the sun. Yet here she sat, absolutely clueless. "So why'd you bring me here?"

"Kels..." He began. His eyes shifted uncomfortably, averting her innocent gaze as he tilted his head to the darkening sky above, grasping to the heavens for a way to tell her.

The light within her faded a little, but she was determined that nothing was wrong. Not tonight, she thought. Everything is perfect...but why does he look so uneasy?

She leans in to kiss him, closing her eyes but unable to reach his lips. Puzzled, she opens her eyes only to find that he has turned away. She needs to know. "West, what's wrong?" Her voice reveals the sting of his rejection, and the glowing light on her face dimmed down to an expression of hurt and questioning.

"Kels, I don't know how to tell you this without.." He looked hurt, unwilling to go on. He put his head in his hands, messing up his brown hair, slightly tinged with blonde. His hair always seemed uneven, no matter how he parted it.

Now she is more confused than ever, and all she can do is look at him with her soft brown eyes, the hue of hurt showing.

He rises, and finally looks into those eyes. The hurt reflected in the soft brown made it harder than ever for him to get the words out. "There's someone else."

Then more useless words were exchanged, an emotional battle raging with the strength of love. Or was it love?

It did not hit her right away. She just kept her gaze in the salty blue waters, questioning and questioning the eyes that once offered warmth and security. She did not want to believe what he had just said. A year and seven months! Their romance, halted abruptly and put to an end with those three words. Except completely different from the three words that she was so used to hearing, words that made something burst with life inside her everytime. Yet with these three words, she felt something slowly cripple inside of her. How could he have been seeing someone else? She had trusted him with her whole heart, unsuspecting that there was someone else on the same side of the equation.

He couldn't stand to look in her eyes anymore. "Kelsie, I'm sorry...what we had was amazing. But it's been so long, and...I don't know. I just needed to get out more, try something different. The feeling's just not there anymore."

She would not let herself cry. The tears would make her weak, and she was still in disbelief that the man she had given her whole heart to had just...left her. Like a wounded soldier in battle taking that one extra step to fall to safety, she ran from the bullets of love. But yet it was inevitable, she could feel her heart being punctured by each bullet with every step she took, every breath she inhaled. The wind did not do good to erase the tears that trailed down her cheeks one by one. She ran so fast that her sides seared with pain. Maybe, she thought, that the physical pain would diminish her emotional pain a little. It didn't work. As she got home and slammed her door, the pain was still there; if possible stronger.

That night felt like the longest night she had ever been through before. Tossing and turning in the wrathful waves of his eyes, still...that blue. She could not let it go. The moonlight extended its silver fingers through the window, casting eerie shadows on her wall. A dog howled somewhere in the distance. Lost, perhaps, like her. It did not help to think of the past, for time does not stop for the weary or the weak.

He said it just wasn't the same anymore, that her soft eyes just did not reach into his heart the way they used to. Then he bluntly added that there was someone else, Dawna or something. She does not remember, and she does not want to. All she wants at the moment is for Dawna to disappear, for the glass bottle to unshatter, and for the night sky to to reflect stars in her eyes again as he would wrap his arms around her waist and tell her that he still loved her.

A tear falls, and as it makes its journey across a landscape illustrated with pain, it reaches a shade of red. She tastes the saltine on her lips. Who can hear her cry?

***

She walks alone, and sits up that sacred place. Her hair whips gracefully around her, and the atmosphere is at peace. The sun is yawning and light is bursting to spread its beauty across the horizon. The sky loses its last shade of darkness as the colors are replaced by more lively ones- the fresh pink of blooming tulips in springtime, the golden miracle granted by the sun and none other, and the faint blue of a smooth, tranquil ocean- free of storm. She notices the blue especially, and takes a few seconds to cherish what was hers and what has been lost. As a breeze passes by she inhales deeply, closing her eyes. She remembers the first time he kissed her, under the big elm tree next to school. He tasted of dentyne ice and strawberry ice cream- she'll never forget the odd mixture. She remembers how good he made her feel, telling her that she remained the only thing pure about this corrupt world. The first time they danced, how he pressed her close to his chest as if afraid she was only a dream. The silence was not awkward, but perhaps spoke more than words could ever offer. When she remembers these things, she knows that they are more than just memories.

Her mother once told her that you started life out as a blank canvas. And as you live, it is only through the people you meet that will help you paint the colors on. It's supposed to have all the colors of the rainbow, everything in between. Some colors will be ugly, but without them the spectrum wouldn't be complete. Then there are the calm colors, the people that are always there for you in times of distress. The light pink, the soft gray. The people that give you those should be cherished. There are the loud colors, the bright green, orange and hot pink- those who bring out the excitement of life for you. Those people, mother always said, are the ones that remind you life is worth living for, even when the world is clouded. Finally there is black- a color misunderstood. It speaks not of gloom or despair, but smiles secretly for it knows what the other colors do not. Black is the color that can reflect all the colors of the rainbow, and her mother said, that without it, the canvas could not breathe. Kelsie believes, that West had given that color to her. Though he is now gone from her life, the color has been added on to the canvas. She smiles, silently thanking her mother for the story.

Then she exhales, and as the delicate eyelids lift themselves with courage and determination, she feels herself move on. Perhaps it was the realization that all things must come to an end, or that with every day comes a new promise- but in the end, even though she herself did not understand all the reasons why such a thing had to happen, the mind soothed the heart a bit. Even the littlest things in life, such as an occasional breeze or the stroke of sunlight on the cherry red back of a ladybug, had left her content with the fact that life does indeed go on.