Gradient

When I was one, I picked up a book and taught myself to read.

When I was in second grade, I taught my class a song in sign language and directed the performance in our school theater.

When I was in fifth grade, I learned my second instrument.

When I was in eighth grade, I won a mock trial case.

When I was in ninth grade, my depression was just starting to creep up.

When I was in tenth grade, my only friend at school was my history teacher in room 104.

When I was in twelfth grade, I went to therapy for the first time.

My life became like one of those paint swatches that show a gradient of colors. But this one was longer and ranged from colors like Unicorn Horn Pink to Color Me Crazy Crimson to a Cute Cornflower Blue and back again.

But one color it never reached was Gone For Good Black. I didn't let it. When the Color Me Crazy Crimson became too much I searched frantically for that Unicorn Horn Pink to lighten it up. Sometimes I found it quickly and the bad days weren't so bad anymore. Often times I didn't though. Each day came closer and closer to that one dreaded hue and the bad days became worse. I always found it somehow though; I wouldn't be here if I didn't. Now I keep that light, fluffy pink near me at all times. It does wander off sometimes, but Not for long. I'm not ready for Gone For Good Black yet.

And it's not ready for me.