When I was younger, I would cling to the words and repeat them over and over in my head.
"I love you..."
When I couldn`t sleep I would say them in my mind.
"I love you to." I would reply to her every night.
She would kiss my forehead, leaving her red lipstick stain.
Then I would watch her leave and go into my brothers room and do the same thing.


I would leave the lipstick there all night not wanting to erase it.
I wanted to keep it on as a reminder of my mothers love.
But, I washed it off in the morning.
Knowing I would recive another one tonight.
And I did.

But, before my mom could leave the room, I asked her,
"How come when you wake up you have pink wips and when you leave you have red lips mommy?"
Her answer was simple,
"It`s because, red is my shade of love"
"How come my lips never turn red mama?" I asked
"Everyone has different shades baby, now go to sleep." she said.
Then she left leaving the six year old alone, with only the nightlight as company.

And after that, I tried to sleep.
But couldn`t.
The more we talked about "Shades of Love", I learned this, the lighter the color was, the more Love there was

Six years I started to recall that night.
The more I thought about it the more I questioned it.
Not about the lips, but the shades.
My moms shade for me was gradually getting darker.
And when the shades were getting darker, the Love was fading.
Then realized that my mom had different shades for me and my brother.
His was the lightest red. And mine was a very dark red.

I didn`t think that she had remembered that night.
So I tried not to let it bother me to much.

The next morning I prepared for another day of misery.
School.
8 hours later when I arrived home from school my mom was already there along with my brother.
I could already see the lipstick stain on his forehead.
It made me upset.

"Mom..." I said.
"...Do you remember that night when we first talked about shades of Love?" I asked.
She hesitated trying to recall that night.
"Now that you mention it, yes.."
"..Why?"
"Just wondereing." I said.

I looked at my brother then the floor.
Then I went upstairs to my room.
I just wanted to be alone for while.

As I sat on my bed thinking of "The Shades of Love", I began to cry.
Why didn`t Mom love me as much any more?
What did I ever do to make her stop loving me?
I kept asking my self these questions.
But, when I tried to think of the answers, I couldn`t

I just couldn`t accept the fact that my own mother had stopped loving me.
Or maybe it`s not that I couldn`t it`s that I didn`t want to?