Author Adelaide Green

I guess I always thought that love either was right or it was wrong. That the idea, the concept of it was just black and white. It either existed or it didn’t. I wondered if it was in the grey’s and that’s why I was so lost. But then someone told me real love is the rainbow. Stages of it are different colors. You see things clearer, food tastes better, songs on the radio seem like they were meant for you. Maybe love isn’t black or white, maybe it’s not about whether or not it is right or wrong. It’s about finding someone that makes you wake up feeling grateful, who stays up late with you drinking tea and not wanting the sun to rise because it means it’s time for you to begin your day at work, without that person. Maybe love is hearing Joni Mitchell on the radio, when you haven’t heard the song in ages. It’s the first bite of a warm pie, the ice cream melting in your cup. It fills up your cup, leaves you wanting more of the person. I thought I was in a bad way when I didn’t know who I was without him. But maybe I was looking at it wrong. Thanks to him I am who I am now, and I like that person. That is thanks to him. He is my sun, my moon and stars. He is the reason I was brought to this Earth. To share with him, to guide him, to love him. He does the same for me. How lucky am I?