Your Blue Is Not My Blue: A Missing Person Memoir

by Aspen Matis

“Every person exists in their own shallow bowl, and they can’t see over the rim,” he explained. “But they think that their world is the world—the truth. When in reality, no two bowls are identical, and all people are stuck trapped in their own.”

“No that’s silly. We see the color of the walls, the same.”

“There is no way to prove that your blue is my blue,” he said. I placed my palm softly on his face, as if thwarting the momentum of this challenging line of thinking. “We all want love and human connection,” I said, perky, “the same things.”

“When we remember to stop struggling, we rediscover we are floating. Trust the water, it will carry you.”