When I looked at you I felt everything. All of the colors and feelings that I didn't know I had. Four shades of sadness, two shades of anger, but an abundance of happiness. No, not happiness. Adventure. In you there was everything that excited me, yet nothing of what I needed. Just a wide array of shapes that were never actually defined, that never actually fit together. There was never a clear picture with you, never certainty. And maybe that's what made the painting of you so beautiful, nothing was set in place, always moving , always changing. Always fluid; never solid. By that I mean thrilling. You were a kaleidoscope and every time I looked through you, you changed. Quickly and suddenly. I knew trusting you was like trusting in a optical instrument, but I did it anyways. At the end of us when the colors became dull and the shapes changed slowly, you gave me a look I will never forget. It was the same look a boy gave me in 9th grade biology. We had been looking through a microscope at slides of different organisms the whole class period. We were describing them and drawing them and after a while he looked at me and said "you know, I really don't care to look through this thing anymore. I'm really bored with it". He looked at me disappointed. It's a microscope's job to zoom in on the big picture, to look closer and define; to shape. When I looked at you, I felt everything. But when you looked at me, you felt bored. I remember once you told me I make a really big thing out of small things. I remember once I called you a kaleidoscope and in response you called me a microscope.