Purple Crayon

By Hope Kostedt

At age 5 my biggest worry was not breaking my favorite purple crayon, because the other purple crayons are either a little too dark or much too light. 

I’m happy. My parents love each other and love us. I have started to make friends I am sure will last a lifetime and role models I am certain will never let me down.

Nothing is confusing because it’s all black and white… and the perfect shade of purple. I am so innocent; I don’t even know the definition of the word. 

At age 12 my purple crayon, along with the others, are never used but I know they are still there. I am just too busy, too old to use them. 

Still naïve, but I’ve seen some things. I’ve lived long enough to know love isn’t what it’s made out to be, friends come and go, and role models shouldn’t exist, they just let me down. 

I know but I don’t fully understand. I cling to that innocence as it slowly starts to fade away with each passing disappointment. 

At age 19 my crayons are gone, in the trash. I haven’t seen the perfect shade of purple in years. 

I’ve witnessed more than I can bear and what’s worse is that I understand it all. The love I thought my parents had and tried to mimic has now left me heartbroken beyond known repair. 

I have a whole new set of friends but have convinced myself there is an expiration date, there always is. The people I chose to admire have turned out worse than those I chose to despise. 

I am not happy. I just want my innocence back. 

At age 25 I miss the simplicity and the feeling of unadulterated happiness. I

 have experienced good. I’ve accomplished. I’ve laughed. I’ve loved. 

However, there is the unavoidable bad. I cannot regain the innocence. It’s gone. Stripped from me by too many people, with too many things. 

At age 5 when I would make an error coloring, I would snatch that perfect purple crayon and color over it. There is nothing that crayon couldn’t make look better. No one could see any problems. 

So, at age 30 I drive, and I buy a box of crayons. The purple crayon isn’t included but if I have learned anything, it’s how to make it work. 

I am not innocent but I will color over it so it cannot be seen. 

By Hope Kostedt