Red was the color of the soft blanket that we shared upon the coach while watching A Day After Tomorrow. Suddenly, your foot touched mine, and I figured you had an itch. Redundantly, the similar occurrence as before kept happening, I started imagining a variety of reason of why he kept tapping my foot. Possibly, you had a spasm that I was unaware of. Or perhaps a rash was hidden behind your white, cotton socks. The credits were rolling when you asked me if I like the movie. I nodded feeling speechless and ashamed. I was ashamed that I couldn’t remember a thing about the ending of the movie; ashamed that I wasn’t truthful with you. Still speechless, you left without me getting a chance to ask you about your troubled feet.

Red is the unwanted color that washed over my face as I realized how naïve I was.

Orange was the color of Edwin’s precious snout. Our adventures at the park lead us to the founding of our beloved, plastic penguin. We took him under our care and gave him a home. You placed him in a cup of water saying he wanted to take a relaxing swim. We left him to fight the wild seas on his own. Unfortunately, when we came back to check on Edwin, he surrender his life to the water and sunk to the base of the glass. Oh, how I gave you so much guilt for the unlucky incident. However, we still laughed it off and I secretly promised to give Edwin swimming lesson.

Orange is the color of the box that Edwin is safely tucked underneath.

Yellow was the color of how the stars appear at night. Those summer night we always snuck out together to the peaceful beach. Those completive summer nights, with me and you always trying to spot the most shooting stars and claim victory. You were so impossibly stubborn! Never telling me what you wished for drove me crazy. Yet, I would never tell you mine so I suppose that it was fair. Our goodbyes in the morning were never ending. You telling me that you had to go before your parents woke up even though I would ask you to please stay awhile longer and you always did.

Yellow is the color of my fingernail polish as I draw a heart in the sand where we once laid gazing into the unknown.

Green was the color of grass that was stuck in your hair. You were the first one that I told about me volunteering at the Humane Society every Saturday morning. I admit that I was afraid that you would think I was a freak and stop talking to me. Instead, you thought it was wonderful and said I was indescribable. Next Saturday, I was out walking a playful puppy when I noticed a car that look suspiciously like yours, but I brushed it off as paranoia. Until, I turned around and discovered that wicked, beautiful smile of yours. Then you started to play with the puppy, lying on the ground with the puppy upon your chest. That day I realized that you were truly something special.

Green is the color of the notebook that I am writing this in as my dog chasing after her delicious bone.

Blue was the color of your baseball shirt. You are extremely good at baseball, and you know that. Don’t let your dad tell you otherwise. You have about a million homeruns to back you up. You are always going to be my favorite catcher. Oh, how I loved the way you would smile at me from the dugout. There was never anywhere else that I would rather be then at your games, cheering you on. And all those fantastic memories going to the park before your games, you always pushed me while I was swinging without being asked. You never made fun of me being terrified of walking over the giant tires like others were known too.

Blue is the color of the sky as I spin on the tire swing in the park, where you have once spun me before.

Indigo is the color of my shirt that night when we were on the jumping on the trampoline. You laughed at me saying I had way too much energy at night. You went in the house and brought out a blanket, without me even telling you that I was cold; you just knew. I settled down and we get under the covers and looked up at the stars for awhile. Then you held my hand and told me you never noticed the stars as much, till you meet me. You went on and on about me and I realized that nobody else really ever has. Except my family, but I really don’t think that counts. Lamely, I said thank you and we sat in complete silence for awhile listening to the wind rustle the leaves and watched the stars shine brightly. Then you kissed me. When you moved you head away from mine, my eyes were closed and you thought I was sleeping. But I wasn’t, I was just scared to look at your face. I was nervous that I didn’t do it correctly since that was my first kiss. You asked me if you kissing me just then were okay and I nodded turning my head away from you so that you couldn’t notice how widely I was grinning.

Indigo is the color of marker that I chosen to cross out all random things that I once wrote about you in my school notes.

Violet was the color of the pop can I kicked while walking with you towards the Indiana Beach Entrance. I told you that there was no way I could possibly ride a rollercoaster since I was horrified of them. You understood and never mention riding one the entire time I was there. You didn’t laugh at me when I told you I always wanted to ride on bumper cars. In fact, you happily spent approximately an hour riding them with me without a single complaint. You didn’t bother me with questions when I told you that I had decided I wanted my first rollercoaster ride to be with you. Instead, you kissed my forehead and lead the way. You held my hand the entire time and screamed way louder than me so that I wouldn’t feel like a fool.

Violet is the color of the Indiana Beach bracelet ride pass that I wore on my wrist during my very first rollercoaster ride that I will always cherish and keep safe.

Rainbow was the color of the fireworks that were exploding in the air when you asked me to be your girlfriend.

Rainbow is the color of my blanket as I am finally ready to watch the ending of The Day After Tomorrow.