My life is like the color blue. On the outside it looks vibrant, joyous, exciting. Like riding a jetski on the ocean or flying a plane in the open air. But beneath the ocean surface or above the bright blue skies there is unknown, unclarity. I don’t know what I am doing with my life and I don’t know where to start. And that’s why I have to escape the color blue. Escape the shade that surrounds me every day. Surrounding this tiny island I call home. That’s why I have to move on to a different color. 

I’m thinking about going black. No, not the race, the color. Black reminds me of onyxl: beautiful and mysterious. I don’t want people to look at me and judge me like the ocean, but instead don’t judge me at all. You don’t know me and you don’t even want to know me, so why bother judging based on my color? Black is also infinite. I look in the color black and see an endless path. And that’s why I just decided I’m moving to New York City. 

When landing in the airport, I see black everywhere: on the people, on the walls, and even on the funeral right outside my window. Oh god, that’s not good. Walking onto the polluted streets of the Big Apple, I feel as if I’m encompassing black. I’m not going to lie, it freaked me out being consumed in a lot of this color. The homeless people on the street in their blankets and ragged clothes. The salesmen in the “I LOVE NYC ” stores arguing with the white tourists. I felt like the attention wasn’t on me, and that’s how I wanted it to be, until someone from Key West pops up and goes, “hey bubba!” I turned around and went back into the airport to buy my next plane ticket somewhere else. 

You can’t go wrong with green right? Green is lucky. Green is camouflage. I’m making myself sound like a Republican deer hunter. “Oh yeah, going to get that lucky buck today!” God help me. No offense to those types of people, but that’s not exactly my cup of tea. But hey, what better way to expand my cup and go to Georgia. Georgia is the essence of green. With the 35,000 acres of the Dixon Memorial State Forest, it’s like you’re blended into the evergreen beauty. Green feels right. Until you realize that right next door to you is another person from your hometown saying “hey bubba!” in your face. I packed faster than a deer running away from taxidermy and went to the airport. 

I’m only 2% Irish, but third times a charm right? My mom’s favorite color is yellow, so let’s just go with that this time. A lot of people say I look like my mom, so it kind of makes sense – hopefully. Yellow reminds me of hope, sunshine, and most importantly the wealth of West Palm Beach. I’m not a gold digger, but hey, who wouldn’t want to feel more bougie? Fake it ‘til you make it right? 

As I landed in the glorious Palm Beaches County, I decided that my first stop was to contact a realtor company to start searching for my beachside apartment. Yes I’m broke, but who cares! As long as I got the first month down I’m good as gold, just like West Palm Beach. This place feels right. Feels like home. 

Walking into The Pisaneschi Group’s office, I see every employee with a bright white smile on their face. Very white. Very very VERY white. Extremely white, like BLINDING white. And then I turn to my left and see another Conch saying “hey bubba!” with a basket full of peppermints. I booked a ticket for the first flight out of here. 

As I’m sitting in the cold, open airport entrance, I’m wondering why I am not having any luck with these colors. Wherever I go, I just get reminded of the color blue. I just want to get away. That’s all I ever wanted to do. 

Maybe I should try the more exotic colors, like turquoise, framboise, or jacaranda. Maybe they will work this time. Maybe I will finally be where I belong. Oh, what am I saying? I don’t know where I’m going. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with my life. All because of one stupid color: blue. 

Blue. Blue. Blue. Stupid blue. Hometown, Key West, Conchs, “hey bubba!” It’s all traumatizing. I wish I didn’t like the ocean. I wish I was never a Conch. I wish blue was out of my color palette. 

I don’t know where to go. I don’t know where I can finally escape. The only place I could go that can give me warmth and help my pockets, is sadly home. 

As I enter the small, rustic airport, with the big sign saying “Welcome to Key West,” I feel content. I feel the stress about all these different colors fade away. Fade into the one color I’ve known all this time: blue. 

My anger melts away with the phrase “hey bubba!” as I drive through the ocean breeze in a big pink taxi. Smathers Beach still looks and smells exactly like what I remembered. The turquoise umbrellas and chairs that trap the tourists for money. The sandy, white beaches my friends and I use to play football on. And the off-roading parking, so locals didn’t have to pay. Memories. And that’s all it will be. 

Getting out of the taxi, my childhood street hasn’t changed at all. Greenery is still everywhere, blending with the skies to make a perfect picture, just like on Adobe Stock. My parents greeted me at the front gate, but I was wondering how they knew I was coming home, because I didn’t say anything to them. Oh right, Life360. Need to delete that app off my phone. With open arms my mother and father’s warm hugs surround me. I hate to admit it, but it was just what I needed. 

I realized that the color blue was not so bad after all. Blue made me feel at home, like no other color could make me feel. The ocean and sky front persona that I had was just me being happy, and under the surface I felt the same. 

The search for a new color makes me feel kind of idiotic now. This whole time I was searching for something other than blue, but I wanted it after all, even though I despised it. It just took four months to figure that out.