Grey is my color. Not only does a grey shirt really bring out my eyes (actually, it IS the color of my eyes), but it’s also just really nice to look at – don’t you think? It’s probably one of the most underrated colors out there. It can be anything it wants to be. It can be dark or light; charcoal or steel; red tint or blue. Thunderstorms make me cheerful. Overcast skies give me energy. I will clean like nobodies business when it’s pouring down rain. I guess it sounds like I’m defending grey, but I really don’t want other people to like it. It’s mine.


The grey is such an abstract thing. All I can picture is a dark, eerie fog; so full of the potential to turn darker – or allow the sun to overcome.

But that’s not what we’re talking about here. The grey is neither comforting nor hurtful. The grey is just there.

It just is.

I’ve made a lot of changes in the past year and a half. This is only the beginning of my journey – still figuring it all out – but I’m optimistic of the future. In the span of my lifetime, 19 months is only a glimpse of what’s to come, but it consisted of so many difficult times, that it feels like such a relief to let go of the struggle.


Letting go is a powerful thing – much stronger then holding on. It brings many new, extremely scary emotions all to the surface, and I’m really just tired of running from them.

(In case you haven’t figured it out yet, this is about a breakup)

So, into the grey I go. Fighting my instincts to run. Fighting my instincts to start over. Into the unknown. Into a world that’s not so black and white anymore. With a heavy heart and steady pace, I walk.


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