It is the colour of overwhelming emotions, blurring your vision, making your head swim. It is the colour of passion. The sensation of being in love, of burning hatred, and of indescribable pain. It is a colour of unseen fear, but it is the colour that keeps us alive - it is the blood within our bodies, the blood that alarms our very system, warning us, protecting us. The colour that screams in your face, and silences the chaos surrounding you. But above all, it is a colour of beauty. A colour of brightness, the splash of light that catches your attention from the vast void of nothingness.

Red is the frantically beating heart when you realise you're madly in love, the tingly sensation beneath your skin reflecting your half-joyous and half-dreading feelings regarding the journey ahead. Red, the colour you see when the softest blush arises from your partner’s cheeks because your foreheads are touching. Red, the colour that envelops you when they flick your head affectionately and reassure that, yes, you are the source of their joy. Red is the cute flowers they like or the surprisingly nice wine you share, the fancy shoes they buy, the colour their nails are painted, the ties you buy each other, it is present in all memories either as an object or an emotion of ever-growing fondness.

Red is the trembling of their hands when you’re together in public. Red is the colour that encloses your world when those who don’t understand or don’t wish to understand simply open their mouths, screaming insults, denying you the right to love. Red, however, happens to be the faint colour of the two lines you focus on when they say “don’t mind them”. The lines twitch up slightly, sadly, but they are comforting.

Nothing else matters, just them. Nothing else matters when they smile back you when they take your hands in theirs and whisper words of promises.

Love takes on many forms, and gender shall not limit it.

We all feel love.

We all bleed red.

We are all the same.