You can't describe feeling black. At least no one I've ever met has been able to describe how it feels correctly. It's like something is ripping your spine out and replacing it with fairy lights. They don't provide much structure, and don't help you at all. They just make everything hard to do.

Of course that's not all black is. It's waking up at 2 in the morning and feeling like it's 9 in the afternoon. I don't understand how this happens but it happens to me a lot. It happened to him a lot too.

He would cover his eyes and tuck his body into a ball. The colors would consume his being. The bright ones would dull and the dark ones would glow with power.

He had a girlfriend and she would try and help too. They got engaged. Everything was going to be perfect. Then he darkened. And so did she. Together they where brilliant and powerful, much like me and him where but in a different form. I loved him but he was my best friend and I knew it couldn't be.

Picture a table that fits four. Each of us at it. He's laughing at a joke she told and I'm smiling at the three of them because they are my life. Then he gets up. The table gets less loving. For a moment we think he'll come back.

He doesn't.

So now it's three sad souls sitting at this table. My sad pink lover gets up to leave but sits back down because I pulled her hand into the sand that was beneath us.

It's just us three. Not four. Three.