Color of Love

Sterling

Years and years ago, people were born able to see color, and people used this color to categorize things and even people and this led to a lot of civil unrest. But finally, scientists discovered a way to turn this trait off so that no one could be judged and categorized. Supposedly, it had help stop wars and crime. Only once you found your 'soulmate' were you allowed to see color. Now why was it that when I found the love of my life would I be so privileged to see the infamous colors of the rainbow? What if I never found him in all the ten billion people on this planet? Well, that was my initial thought in first grade upon first learning this.

I could see what they deemed black, white, and grey. But the colors red, blue, yellow and these others that we learned about during history and science everyday went right over me and my fellow first grade classmate's head. Our teacher said that the variations in grey that we could see came on account that colors were still present, we just couldn't see them.

But there was this boy named Sterling in my class. He was fair-skinned, at least from my little colorblind eyes could tell. His skin was a lighter grey than that of some of my classmates. His eyes were dark and so was his hair, but his teeth shined white.

Sterling became my best friend. We played together on the playground in grade school, went to the movies together in middle school, and dated in high school. He was charming and just downright perfect.

I knew he was my soulmate by the time fifth grade had come and he kissed my cheek at recess and I felt a warm, fuzzy feeling for him. I knew he was my soulmate the first time he left me a hickie in eight grade when we had gone to the movies. And I knew he was my soulmate the first time he really told me he loved me in high school.

One day, after one of his debate tournaments during junior year of high school, Sterling told me, "You look different today."

I cocked my head to the side. "What do you mean?" I questioned.

Sterling looked at me hard and then looked around. "It's your eyes," he told me, "they look like this," he said before bending down and pointing at one of the slightly darker tiles of the school floor.

"My eyes look darker grey today?" I questioned.

Sterling shook his head, "No, Lin," he began. "It's not grey. It's...its..." he said his voice trailing off. "It's something else."

"You mean...you're seeing color?!" I gasped. My voice came out soft, in an excited whisper, but a weird smile crossed his face.

"I don't know, Linnea," Sterling went on, "If it is...that means-"

"We're soulmates!" I cut him off in excitement. "Sterling...you're my soulmate!" I squealed, "I always knew you were!"

Sterling hugged me and kissed my forehead. "Don't go telling everyone. It could just be tired from my debate," Sterling went on. That was my Sterling – always trying to rationalize things and put things into place. He wanted to be a lawyer someday. He loved speaking and arguing and making thing just.

The following morning though, he came to school and told me that when he woke up and was waiting for the bus, the sky seemed off. He said it looked like my eyes and the tiles in the school from the previous day, only much, much lighter.

And from then on, with the passing weeks and months, Sterling would describe how I changed and how even things around him changed. He pointed colors out that his parents had taught him as he gained the ability to see color.

Grass was green. The sun was yellow. Trees were brown. And well, my eyes, like the sky, were blue. But no matter how many times he tried to explain, it all still looked grey to me. By the end of senior year, Sterling could see all the colors of the rainbow. His doctor had confirmed it. So if I was his soulmate, why could I not see anything?