For as long as I could remember, everything was black and white. Surrounded by people who could see color, I always felt out of place. With the way I saw the world, it felt as though people viewed me the same way—black and white. No part of me stood out and nothing in the world caught my eye. I used to be obsessed with wanting to see color, but eventually I gave up. Now, I no longer cared.

Why care about something that would never be possible?

So, I embraced the gray I lived in. The in between of standing out and blending in. It eventually became calming to me. The world being so dull, but it was my world that I saw and enjoyed—at least that was what I thought on my morning stroll, but then, something caught my eye.

That’s strange, what could possible catch my eye?

Stopping in my tracks, I turn my head over my shoulder. Then to my left. Then the right. Just as I swiveled my head back ahead, it happened again. In the corner of my eye I saw something. It was not black nor white. On one of the many brick walls that lined my path, a color.

I have walked through here numerous times. How have I not noticed this before?

It took my breath away. What color is this?

I did not know. All I know is that it is beautiful. It was vibrant. There it was in all its glory. A color. On the wall, it was an artwork of a few butterflies. It was something I walked past countless times but it never stood out until now. I still did not know the name of its color. Continuing to admire its beauty, I engrain its image into my mind. I will make sure to stop by here everyday. Making a mental note, I slowly begin to continue my stroll while keeping my eyes on the artwork before it disappeared out of view.

How tragic, I still don’t know the name of its color.