Blues and Greens

You are no longer a person.
To me anyway.
Fall away.
Break.
Shatter.
Disintegrate.
Disappear.
Your face is beautiful, but only in the memories I've chosen to keep, the photos I didn't shred.
Your voice is soothing, but only on the tapes I didn't throw out.
Your eyes are haunting, everywhere. All the blues and greens I see, they are your irises.
My mind races.
Then slows.
Races.
Then slows.
My eyes flutter open to the dark of night and I think for a minute that I can feel your body.
I'm wrong. Still dreaming, slightly.
My movements feel eerily basic, mechanical.
My limbs are disconnected from my mind, simply moving from memorized routine.
Wake-up.
Shower.
Dress.
Prepare.
Chew.
Swallow.
Chew.
Swallow.
I hate you, then I miss you. I stare at my phone. I work for a few hours, glad to have my mind busied by my pencils and paints. I avoid blues and greens. There's so much red, so much orange, so much yellow. Fiery like my thoughts. Flickering uncontrollably. And what puts out fire?
Ahh, yes, water.
Blue, vast oceans of water.
Blue, vast oceans of your eyes.
Fuck...
I stop painting. I wash my hands until they are bright red from me being unaware of the temperature. More mechanized movement ensue. I'd go outside, but I live near the beach. The sky is still blue, as is the ocean. The grass is still green. And the colors do nothing but haunt my heart.
I am lost in my pain, my choice, my monotony, all self-inflicted.
I wait until dark. I step outside, and take the five minute walk to the beach. I strip and wade into the dark water. This is dangerous, I know. I'm alone.
But I'm not alone. I see someone. More than someone. I see you.
And it's in this moment when I realize that coming to the beach was our thing. Late at night. And we are simultaneously reaching for the thing we've unequally lost. I'm reaching for my sanity. And you? You're reaching for me. I wish and hope that you don't see me. I sit low in the water, shivering, hoping that you'll go the opposite way. You wade closer. I hold my breath. My heart feels like it's beating loud enough for the world to hear.
"Is that you? Lena?"
Oh. No.