Bittersweet.

Goodbyes -

are sticky, horrendous, heartbreaking.
They make my tears flow, my snot run, my emotions work like a pregnant mother's, always on the brink of tears or anger. Feelings are on my sleeves and that makes me embarrassed. And I can't even show emotion when I wish to, and I say the wrong thing, and I can't leave things right and
I hate goodbyes,
with all their pressure, the pressing weight of the
knowledge
that these are the last moments. Last glances and hugs and words to be exchanged.
And if the others don't feel the same overflow as me,
that's even worse. They're all risky and yucky and mucky. Like puddles, like dreary days, exhaustion.

They are blue. 

Goodbyes -

are beautiful. In their rawness and
how they make us cling
to every last memory and touch and hope.
How all of our shadows come to light and we can expose ourselves in a passionate whirlwind of emotion and honesty and unashamed bareness. It's freedom. And light. And a lifting of all reservedness.
Hugs and kisses, warmth and leaning.
And my palms are opened to what's ahead, my control is gone, and I must admit that there's nothing I can do, there's nothing left to be done, because I am nothing and I'm not the Puzzle-Maker.
This truth hits me roughly
and

They are red.

Goodbyes are blue and red,
in what's past and ahead.

A splashing, a collision of
contrast and
paradox.

And now I know that Goodbyes are
Purple.