The Guilt of Farewell

We are not just the primary colors

By Amina Ahmed

Among the many lessons I am learning in this life, I believe the most important is the beauty of ambiguity. As a product of the customary education system, I was taught each problem had a set solution: 2 + 2 = 4, red and yellow make orange—I trust most of us were taught the same.

But when confronted with a problem that has multiple answers, or better yet, no answers at all, what are we to do? We were never equipped with the right resources to tackle such a dilemma, and so we became uncomfortable and incapable of fathoming the ambiguity.

At this moment in time, when everything is fleeting, there is hardly any aspect we can define in black and white terms; especially within our interpersonal relationships. Does this not mean that what we were taught of reality is simply untrue?

We worry endlessly about what people think of us, who we love, and who we despise. Yet, we’ve never realized that this categorization, this need for an answer, will never add up. In both letting go of relationships that do not serve us and fostering new ones that do, there isn’t one clear-cut answer.

It’s the same reason why joy and pain go hand-in-hand. You cannot have one without the other. Thus, when we grieve the relationships that once were, it is neither strange nor surprising to yearn for the joyful moments that were had. These emotions are not mutually exclusive—in fact, their coexistence is more common than we’re led to believe.

It’s unruly and messy, sure, but aren't humans inherently messy? We are both, neither, and either/or, and there is nothing more beautiful than that. I mean, truly, if this world was only red or yellow, would you find this life just as colorful?