Black And White

Black is not a colour. We see black when something completely absorbs any light that shines on it. Black is a sucking darkness that takes all the colour for itself, hiding it from everyone.
White is not a colour. We see white when something completely reflects any light that shines on it. White is a shining brightness that takes no colour for itself, sharing it with everyone.
They are opposites, these things; the giving and the taking, Yin and Yang. The opposing ends of a spectrum that encompasses so many shades and variations. The spaces in between these two are a joyful explosion of vibrancy and vision. In between them, we are somewhere over the rainbow, but the ends are absolute.
That’s who we are, as people, you and I. We are two opposite ends of a spectrum. At first, when we met and explored each other, the joy of contrast filled us. How much brighter things look, when they are set against a dark background. How much darker the shadows that hang on the edge of light.
We laughed at the warnings from friends who knew us well enough to say that they didn’t think our pairing would work. We countered ‘too different’ with ‘opposites attract’ and oh! They certainly did.
I wore white and you wore black on the day we stood in a church we had never prayed in, before a God we didn’t believe in and a crowd of people who didn’t believe in us, and made the vows we wouldn’t keep. Light streamed in through the stained windows, bathing the room in a myriad of tones but even this magic had no power to transform you.
Like black, you took and absorbed everything that I had to give, returning nothing. Enticed by the absence I poured in more and more of myself until I was nothing but hopeless reflection. I lost my joy, my spark, my light; I was a pale imitation, a fake and a fraud. Trying so hard to be anything but white, trying so hard to be anything but your opposite.
I tried on personas like others tried on clothes; what would work? What would get a response from you? Soothing shades of green? Passionate pinks? Optimistic yellows or the screaming anger of scarlet? I threw all these and more at you and what did I get in return? Nothing. You took everything, but you held it inside, locked within your heart's penumbra.
It was folly, to expect an absolute to change. How could you? Add some blue to yellow and you find green; purple is a merging of red and blue but you? You are not capable of it. You are just colour’s absence; you have nothing to give.
And I’m sorry. I am. Because I thought we were eternal. I thought we were night and day, destined to cycle together until the end of time, but we’re not. We’re not.
Here are the divorce papers, the gleaming white sheets of pristine parchment that await just one more thing; one more spilling of the darkness over the light.
Your signature.
Just there.
In black and white.