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  I have had a hard life. Being with the same person, child to man is a legend for crayons like me. It’s all I have ever dreamed about, not having the risk of being thrown away. Being with someone who is an art major they draw to express feeling. I have been with him from times of anger, sadness, happiness, and even while love struck. Because of this I know many details about him,  like that he didn’t have many friends. He thought of us simple crayons as his friends. He changed our boring names to descriptive personalities, for each of us. He also made us boys and girls making it easier to figure out what he would use for that day to draw certain things, we would move around in the box to better help him. 

  He had an assignment in class one day, it was to write about your favorite color without ever mentioning the color by name. I am his favorite color and to hear him talk about me in such a way was an honor. I will never forget that day he wrote it, he drew with me to make the edges more vibrant. And touching that paper I internalized everything. If you don’t mind I am going to share his kind words with you.

  “It is the color of her lips before you go in for the kiss. The color of her cheeks when you tell her how beautiful she is. It was the color of her dress that you last saw her in that fateful night. It was the anger you felt after the accident. It was the color of the liquid that she was covered in when you found her. It’s the color of your heart that is now in pieces. And it is the color of the rose you left on her grave.”

  I never knew the accident affected him so much. Even though I am his favorite color, he doesn’t use me that much anymore. I would imagine after all I remind him of. I do not mind it, he’ll always know I’m here, for when he wants to use me again. I hope it’s soon because I am laying next  to the pack, sharpened, and ready to help him.