My
eyes are somewhat
unusual, at least from what I've seen. They are greyish-green, with a strange little circle of
orange ringing my
pupils. Since I was old enough to have
boyfriends, I have sat across from them in
booth seats in cheap restaurants, feet kicking, hands fidgeting,
eyes shut tight, and asked, "What color are my eyes?"
Somehow I thought that
guys were taught by their fathers to respond to this question in a very serious and
flattering manner, always including the words
limpid,
beautiful, and
pools. I felt for whatever reason that this question was very grave, and if the boy was wrong, that he
must not love me. The worst was to be told
brown, because my eyes are light, and this told me that
the boy in question was not
the one for me. He obviously did not think I was all that great if he couldn't remember (or worse, didn't know) what color my eyes were.
I have never been satisfied by any
answer that I have been given. I have been told green, grey, hazel, brown, blue,
dunno, trout, and most recently,
wooden. Wooden is only an acceptable response because it comes from
someone I love and accept, and because it makes no sense. My strange attachment of meaning to a question also makes
no sense. It took a long time to
realize that, but still I take offense to the wrong answer. I suppose it's a point of
vanity for me.