“I hate the color gray” she said, her tone so matter of fact, her eyes so certain and strong.

He smiled a small patient smile and said “you really should be more gentle with your feelings. Of all the boring colors that your eyes will see, gray will be a constant companion through the seasons of your life.”

She scoffed at this .. “I’ll never choose it as a color for anything. Not my wedding, not for paint or rugs or clothes or anything … ever.”

He tipped her chin up with a single fingertip, locked eyes with her, and said “I never said you’d choose it. I do promise it will choose you. Life is lived in gray shades my darling. There will be gray seasons, gray skies, gray moods, the gray hair that will be your badge someday, the gray area that will force your hand in most everything, and eventually you’ll touch a soft gray sweater that will be a cocoon of security against a colorful world you’ll need to hide away from.”

She blinked and her eyes grew big. Her gray eyes turned dark with his words. “You think you know me” she accused.

“I know gray” he said, “and I promise you will too.”