Finding Comfort in Childhood Colors

My favorite color is pink. The soft, baby pink that is mostly seen on Easter, or mother's day. The same pink at a mother's baby shower. But for a while, my favorite color was red. Red was more aggressive, less girly than the color pink. I bet those years must've been lonely for pink. She watched me grow up. She was there when I still had my thumb in my mouth, and now she's here when I enter the bar. She's there when I sign a credit card, or look at my license. What would she say if only she could talk? Would she be mad I abandoned her for so long? Or happy that I finally came back? She's my sister. A sister that hasn't aged a day since I met her. She still stands with her shirts so big they reach her knees and a teddy bear clutched between her hands. After waiting so long, shed look me in my eyes and say, "It's good to see you again."