ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ WHAT COLOR DOES YOUR LOVE FEEL LIKE?
Sinking ships, raging seas and tumultuous hearts, love isn't easy for you. It's a struggle, a constant inner fight of should I? Can I? Do I? Feelings are hard and they rumble inside you in a dissatisfied mess that begs to be let out. Your heart screams and cries inside you and you… You can't, you won't. You're scared. And love is scary, it's hard and sometimes it just doesn't work out. People leave, people hurt, people change their minds. And you and your cold stormy heart yearn for the calmness, for the distance, to be allowed and able to simply not feel. And yet, you do. It rages, it fights and storms inside you and you try to keep it down, keep it quiet, to feel pretending not to. It's the burn of childhood friends growing apart, of parents that aren't quite there, of relationships that burn out. So you snuff it down with water, cold and calming and blue, blue, blue. But being loved by you is blue too, just not in that way. It's the soothing, embracing feeling of floating, the moment when you sink down bellow the waves and become one with the water, with everything. It's the balance, the dramatic yet calming sound of waves that crash against a rocky shore. You're the good and the bad, the violence of the storm and the watery peace right after. You're the blue, blue feeling and loving you is watery tears, yelled confessions that no one will hear and burying your feelings in a deep watery grave never to be found out about. Your love is dark stormy blue, it's vast and deep and all encompassing, it's safety in the surface of danger, it's trusting the unruly abyss and yet I'd gladly risk drowning just to feel what it's like being loved by you.
FREIORA
warm burnt orange
Riding off into the sunset, the hope of a happy ending, the bitter after taste that still in it's own way smells kinda great. Your love is all bitter hopefulness, all about a broken heart that refuses to quit, all about the unshakable knowledge that a burning fire has a great comforting warm and a soft glowing light, all about the way when the sun comes down there's a beautiful starry night. It's stubbornness, it's the refusal to give up, the clutching of broken shards despite the searing pain and being adamant that dammit you can still make a beautiful stained glass window out of it. Yours is a screaming heart, a pleading love, a bitter and almost belligerent hopefulness that things will still work out even if you have to roll up your sleeves and make them. And god, aren't you tired? Isn't your heart heavy? Is all your hard work worth it? Don't you just want to curl up and let it be? Let the fire turn to ashes and the sky turn dark and let love die down and watch people leave? But you don't, do you? You're the bravest out of all of us, so you pick up the pieces and you keep going, you keep believing and you keep your heart full of hope because some day. Some day you know you'll get it. You keep riding off into the sunset and you keep filling my heart with hope as you go because god, how do I wish you finally get it too.
Fireworks, borrowed lighters and sparklers against a dark backdrop, yours is a love that burns stark and bright. It's scary though, like things that burn always tend to be, but for you it isn't the thrill of the open flames that gives pause and a slight stomach drop of terror, but rather the time when the flames go out, the sparkler ends and the night is cold and dark once again. Fireworks, borrowed lighters, a striken match, your love burns bright and fast and then maybe it passes, maybe the feeling dies out and you're left in the cold once again. And that's the feeling isn't it? Of being bored and waiting for someone to light you up again? To be fair, you do know you don't need it, but then again we don't often crave the things we need. And you crave and yearn and burn in the wait, restless in the knowledge that at some point someone will pass and rub you the right way, that some day you'll light up the night sky bright yet again. There's comfort in the darkness and solace in the predictable loneliness of the in between, but your heart still squirms inside you, waiting and willing and begging to burn up again. Your love might not be comfort, it's not one for the sick days, but then again, there's a reason why everyone waits for the shining lights in the sky during holidays.
tagged by: @tadbitfooled
tagging: @bloodtwin @grief-worn @tamedstray @shdwtouch @accultant @ceruleanscarred @luhnsilvars @likemosaic && anyone who wants to !!!
