the other shade of red

Everyone knows my many metaphors that replace the names in the stories of my life. I don't know the exact post where I wrote a name for the last time, definitely years ago. But I know where it began, and the Grass, Fire, and Water Type love triangle wasn't the first. 

2012 was loneliness and confusion, and with it came alot of writing. I brought diaries to parks and terminals, sometimes with a red and black hoodie slung over a shoulder. Somewhere along the way I found significance in the colours of my jackets, and borne were my first metaphors: red and black. 

They were actually the favourite colours of twins, the younger and older, respectively. Two characters who were so significant back in their chapter ten years ago. Sometimes it feels like a distant dream until I look through Facebook memories and see harsh reminders of seventeen-year-old me, the one most impacted by them. 

The colours were so symbolic of their contrasts, and I only got to know this from one teary night with black. So overshadowed despite being older, so burdened with expectations. I could see a bit of what he meant when they were still in secondary school with me, black walking around prim with his councillor tie while red ran around with the other rebels, a cast from a fractured arm.

I never hung out with black much until after he graduated, but I was one of red's rebels I guess. We climbed seashell pavillions and ledges to get onto rooftops in our school uniforms. That was what landed us into detention together, cementing our friendship until it gradually evolved into the three-month relationship that would be my demise.

It was really hard when the breakup was still fresh, but it didn't improve much until I graduated and moved on to poly. You know me, I could still see the ghosts in school and all around Pasir Ris. He blocked me on all forms of social media back then, which was all for the better. I didn't realise, somewhere along the ten years that have passed since then, he had taken the time to unblock me.

Of course I was curious, it'd been such a long time. What got me to stop scrolling was a group picture of red, black and two other boys. What got me to start searching up his name were the words: one is married, the others on their way. As above everyone as I always think I am, my curiosity gets the best of me.

What do you know, red was the married one. Looking at their picture I couldn't help but wonder if she knows everything about his past no matter how insignificant, something like a three months long relationship from ten years ago? I kept nothing from my own partner, even the smallest interactions with the most random of schoolmates. 

I felt nothing looking at him, maybe a little embarrassment that this was the face that caused so much turmoil for a year? My ability to travel back in time leads me to the days when all I heard was it will get better, he will not matter anymore in ten years time. But here I am now, ten years older and it is a shock to see for myself that he means nothing more than a boy from the past.