I really hate black. Tell my friends it's a boring colour - a white lie. Once I owned a black dress. Bought it for a Halloween party. What an amazing night! Fun and laughter, horror and comedy at once. I looked so good in that dress, to that day this version of myself is one of my favorites. I loosened up, forgot myself, felt invincible. And everyone believed me. Artistic theater wrapped in black lace.
The next time I wore that black dress was to a funeral. My grandmother, the only person I knew who could love utterly and absolutely unconditionally, left me lost and lonely with my crackled small crying heart. Grief is a soft illness. It gently strokes you to depression. Leaves you over and over again, coming back heavier each thought of your loved ones. Poetic tragedy wrapped in black lace.
I never wore that black dress again. You remind me of its story.
© Sophie Haller 2022-05-10