It’s the tiny, almost insignificant details about somebody, often overlooked, that make them who they are, that comprise their very-selves, their very being. It’s often taken for granted, even the way that they breathe as they’re falling asleep in your arms, the way their eyes glisten as they turn to face you, and look into your eyes. Everything seems to appear so naturally, develops so naturally that you take the little things for granted, when it’s those that should mean the most; the nuances comprising the love somebody feels, is honestly the most valuable thing to a person, when speaking of somebody else.

Walking through some fields, where only the two of you remain. They are the person that you feel most close to, even though you’re recollecting your family in the nothingness of the green grass which flows in the empty field. In contrast, in a sea of people, as you hold hands through the many of them, some of which turn to face you, there’s nobody else you’d rather be holding hands with, showing off, showing your love and affection towards that person. You feel comfortable and safe.

That level of affection doesn’t come easy, but it appears naturally and without warning; likewise, it seldom matters how long it took to unfurl, to present its true colours to the both of you. A deep and loving red encompasses you, the colour of love and a deep affection, rich red wine to which you’re easily addicted, a substance you can’t often be without. A colour where, it also signals warning. Stop. To take a risk, that is the most metaphorical way in which to view the colour red – a risk, with equal warning and danger, to its benefits. Do you pursue this total unknown, and risk being cut off and equally hurt? Or, do you take a risk and be optimistic that it could be the most perfect thing you could ever encounter?

There’s nothing which can make you decide, apart from your instinct. In any case, that’s what is the most important, your instinct. Because, along with that, comes your happiness; it doesn’t stem from other people, but from yourself, making the right or wrong decision, that’s the only way to pursue something which you know will be great, or indeed, deadly. The colour red. As passionate and royal as it is dangerous, an almost paradox, something which cannot be simple, composed of complexities and nuance, deep connotation and thought. A thousand meanings, all individual, all temporary, all real.


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