My dearest White,
You know how much I care about you, right? I love your elegance. Your gentle creams, your haughty ivories. Quiet refinement in a storm of noisy color. Remember my wedding? My good pearls? No one knows you like I do White.
It’s me. I know it’s me. I still remember when I first saw you, years ago, in all your shinny, patent leather glory. You were irresistible. My mom said you weren’t practical. She said not to play with you after Labor Day. You were good for a summer fling, or a wedding. Too much work, she said. Not a color to settle down with. Not a pigment to build a wardrobe around. You have to admit, White, you have a “take off your shoes,” “don’t sit there,” “clear drinks only” kind of way about you. It can be hard to love you.
But, if I’m honest White, I crave your company. You are so much more than the walls of my first apartment. Layered in all your various iterations, you are striking yet soft, brilliant yet subtle. Linen. Oatmeal. Alabaster. Sand. Pearl. Smoke. Mist. Snow. My breath on a cold day.
Shall we stay together you and I? Shall I wrap myself in your pearls and wonder why we ever argued and grew impatient waiting for a rare, is-it-a-special-enough-occasion kind of day? Shall I marvel at your ability to make a statement with quiet dignity and effortless sophistication? Shall we grow old together, you and I? Celebrating life’s nuance, its texture, its imperfection, and its subtle beauty.
Fondly
For the pearl necklace http://www.chikahisastudio.com/store/FO01PE.html
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