I’ve been going through a very bad breakup. And I wrote down my thoughts so you could understand.
Dear Black Furniture,
You and I have shared many years together. The ups and downs of trying to keep you even remotely looking dusted was worth it in the beginning. Our affair was sultry. I craved you even though I knew that you were wrong for me. And I knew that you had other lovers on the side. But it didn’t stop me to succombing to your siren call.
I have seen the light. I am now awakening to the understanding that you were wrong for me all along and that my innermostself desires all that is white and bright. It’s not you, it’s me. I’ve discovered that white fits me like jeans and a tshirt. Does it need dusting? Who can tell. Does it play nicely with all of my other furniture friends. Yes, yes it does. And maybe it too is secretly having other hot and steamy relationships in my friend’s homes. But all I know is that right now it feels good.
Maybe some day you and I can be friends again. Maybe I’ll be in need of the sophistication that you bring to a piece that no other color can. But right now, I have to listen to the calling of my heart. And that is white.
Style from the Sticks