Colours and Time

Red, blue and yellow were my favourite colours, part of the rainbow, which you always said reminded you of me, so cheerful and happy. It still makes me smile. Pride, joy, pleasure, sadness, everything you can feel wrapped up in colourful wrapping paper and stuck in the sky like a fridge magnet. Pride. A simple emotion that can boost you up, or bring you down. It can bring people together, or tear them apart, normally the latter. It reminds me of you and I, all we ever were, are and will be. 1

Do you remember? I think it was May 16th, I never was good at remembering the little things, things that you would scold me for forgetting, then laugh and tell me them later. Anyway, dressed in all the colours of the rainbow, we marched down the streets with music blaring in our ears, wonderful people surrounding us on every side, like we didn't have a care in the world. Well, we did, but on that day they were hidden from view. Unfortunately, a bunch of protesters brought our well earned joy ride to an abrupt halt as they filed in a line in front of us, refusing to move until we gave it up, stating that we were a disgrace to humanity. You wanted to show them what a gay man could do with his fists, and that we weren't just a bunch of flamboyant nothings dressed to look pretty.2

Approaching the self-proclaimed leader of the group, I pulled on your arm, begged you to stop, but you would hear nothing of it. Clenching your fists in anger, I could see the fine toned muscles twitching with suppressed annoyance. You just glared at each other for a little while, before the protester flicked his eyes up, with you following. He just sucker-punched you in the stomach, and laughed that obnoxious laugh of his I would get to know so well in the courtroom. Staggering back to your feet, with a well known move of yours, you swept his feet out from under him and smashed his arrogant little face into the concrete with one fluid motion, sending crimson flying. With that, a war broke out. The bisexuals, gays, dykes, transgendered and cross-dressers forgot whatever hostility they had in between each other and rose as one massive human wall to come crashing down, quickly shattering the protesters barrier. But, that one split second of hesitation payed it's price. The little man you smacked down came back up with a gun, and next thing you know there's a cold and unforgiving barrel touching your chest. Your eyes widen, and as you look up into the man's eyes, who I later found his name to be Jake Heimely, pulled the trigger and your world fades to black.3

You woke in the hospital with a breathing tube shoved down your throat, bandages covering your smooth torso, being fed about 7 different meds through IV drips, and shooting pain whenever you tried to move. You wanted to say 'I love you' to me, or 'I'm sorry' but you couldn't, and the pain was in your eyes, making it unbearable to watch. As the weeks of grueling rehabilitation went by, you slowly regained your ability to work independently, although that didn't last for long. Once, I was changing your rainbow dyed bandages, when I heard a knock on the door. Remember that? We both didn't know that I shouldn't of answered it,but I did anyway. As soon as that lock clicked, Jake slammed open the door an stormed in, wearing black just to clash with our colours. Cocking the gun, I realized what he was going to do, I suppose grudges die hard. A bang, a scream cut short, and silence. Just the slow and constant tick, tick, tick, of the Grandfather clock that used to belong to your dad. The brass arrows just kept going, not caring that my world had stopped. That's when the police came and took him away.4

Once again you awake in the hospital, in a white room. White ceiling, white walls, white bedsheets, white everything. It was rather bland and passe if you ask me. I'm holding your hand, and my shoulders shake with silent sobs. I've been told that you won't make it into tonight, and that I should spend every last minute I have with the one I love so dearly before having to say goodbye. Your confused, but reassure me that everything's gonna be alright, wiping at my tear-stained face. Entwining your finger's in mine, you smile and try not to wince as a new stab of pain melts your insides.5

You seem to be going dead to the world, as your eyes roll back in your head and cold sweat break out on your once tanned and complexed skin. The doctors watch helplessly as you take your dying breaths in preparation to leave this world. Gripping my hand in yours, the grip loosens on me as I feel your long, slender hand go slack in mine, and your head lolls in my direction. Giving your last award winning smile, it's time to close your eyes and sleep forever more, as I whisper lullabies into your dulling ears. Rattling breaths soon fade, then your body lies still. You breath no more.6

Still holding your now lifeless hand, I gaze listlessly out into the sky, so clear, as if mocking me. But I see the strong imprints of a rainbow streaking across the deep blue sky. You didn't know this before, but this is why I love rainbows so much. It reminds me of who I am, and who you were. I also saw that it symbolizes two new meanings, hope and peace. Hope, to continue living with you after the accident, and the peace that finally came over you as God released you from your torment. Did this bring me closure, the thing I wanted above else the second the life left your beautiful body? I don't know, only the skies and my own mind can tell me, and for that, I need time.