This morning, Saigon seems to be wrapped in a pale shade of blue.

That in-between light between night and day, where dreams still linger softly in the air, and everything feels gentler, quieter, as if the world hasn’t yet decided whether it wants to be happy or sad.

I walk past rows of motorbikes, the scent of freshly cooked pho, and the faint aroma of coffee drifting in the wind. The city hums with life, yet inside me, there’s a small, trembling space, perhaps because of you.

Just a fleeting thought of you is enough to make an ordinary morning feel different. People say blue is the color of sadness. But to me, blue has never been cold.

Blue is the color of a heart that still hopes, a quiet, lingering emotion that can hurt but never truly fades.

I wonder what your mornings look like.

Do you wake up to the sound of rain tapping gently against the windowpane?

Or the distant chime of a clock somewhere in your flat? Do you drink black coffee, or do you like to add as much sugar as I do?

It’s strange how small, ordinary thoughts like these can make half the world’s distance feel a little closer.

Just imagining you is enough to bring me near.

At noon, sunlight melts into my room like liquid glass. It spills over the table, over postcards I’ve never sent, and over the letters I keep writing in my head but never start.

If I could send one, maybe I’d write this:

Dear you, There’s a gentle blue inside me, both real and fragile. I don’t know if it’s love or just its lingering echo, but every time I think of your name, that shade of blue softly stirs.

I’m still here, living, trying every single day. I’ve built a small fashion brand of my own, and I’m studying for my master’s degree, to understand the world better, and to stand a little stronger in my own journey.

I want to try harder, earn more, so that one day, I can step into your city.

People say money can’t buy love, but surely, it can buy a round-trip ticket to London, where I could finally see the place you call home. And it’s funny, in Vietnam, the highest denomination banknote is blue too. So I tell myself, “Keep earning more blue.”

Blue for hope.

Blue for love.

And blue for the dreams I haven’t yet reached.

Maybe we all carry a color within us, just waiting for someone to see it. As for me, today and perhaps in the days ahead, I’ll still be blue. Blue, because I miss you.

Blue, because I still believe.

Blue, because somewhere beneath the same sky,

you might be looking up, just like I am now.