To the Girl in Red

To the Girl in Red

 

To the girl in red, as a child, I never truly liked the color red. It was too loud, too attention-grabbing, too in-your-face. It wasn’t like blue or green, who were so incredibly comforting, as they both painted the sky and grass. It wasn’t like yellow or orange, who danced in the air when the sun was setting. It wasn’t like the brown of my eyes. It wasn’t like the gray of my father’s shirts or the black of my mother’s heels. It wasn’t like the purple of my sister’s alarm clock. 

 

Red was red. 

 

To me, it didn’t belong in the natural world. The only red I would see would be fire hydrants and fire trucks, all signals of danger and panic. I would associate red with phone notifications, Target, and Youtube, the most mundane aspects of my everyday life. 

 

But I remember when I walked into middle school, and red was suddenly soft and quiet. 

Back then, your hair was long. I believe it went all the way down to your waist. Your shirts were red. Sometimes, the color of your nails would be maroon. Your cheeks would also be tinted pink. 

You were just red, but in a way I’ve never seen red be so majestic. 

In the ways we talked together before school, laughed together during lunch, and plucked each other’s violin and viola strings after orchestra, I learned to incorporate red in my life. Soon, my mornings started with red noses and cheeks from winter’s kiss. My lunches were filled with yout red tubberware and my pepperoni pizzas. Orchestra concerts were filled with red polo shirts and excessive bow rosin.

 

Red was beautiful because red was you. 

 

When high school started, and soon the red, white, and blue turned into blue and orange, I regret ever letting red go. I think then, the only element of red in my life was a red hoodie in my closet. I’m sure you would have loved it. Unfortunately, I gave it to my sister. I can show you sometime but I have to ask my sister where it is first. Anyways, I realized then how important red was. It was one of the three primary colors. It was the first color in the rainbow. It was the color of one of my favorite off-shoulder tops I’ve had. 

In short, I think I’ve taken red for granted. And without you, I would’ve never realized that. 

 

As a senior in high school, I’m grateful that red chooses to grace my life again. Today, red appears when you wear your burgundy shirts, paint your nails maroon, and even on the cover of the two The Namesake copies that sit next to each other on our table for first period AP Literature. Red appears in the almost-melted Sour Patch Kids in the back of your car, in the lipstick you make fun of me for wearing, in the red mechanical pencil I gave you in the beginning of the school year. 

 

But I’m the most happy when red appears with you. 

 

No homo tho lol.