I hated mornings.

That turning point where the night was dying and giving birth to a new dawn. I hated those moments when everyone else's world came alive, but mine always stayed the same. It was filled with a hideous unchanging gray that surrounded me wherever I moved. She was drowning me. But at least I managed to float above the surface and tried in vain to breathe.

But I still haven't found a way to stay permanently above that level. I tried everything possible - even impossible - and it didn't get any better. It wasn't.

And living two years without colors is fucking demanding. But she left me...