I jumped at the obnoxious sound of fingers snapping in front of my face, forcefully dragging me out of my momentary state of tranquility.

"Juno, you're daydreaming again."

"Sorry," I mumbled, chewing on the inside of my cheek. "What were you saying?"

Elsa shook her head at me in something that wasn't disapproval or disappointment, but simply a way of going "there you go again". Her dyed locks bounced with the movement. 

I suppose this is the part where I introduce myself. 

I was given the name 'Juno' by my mother before she passed away in the hospital due to labour complications. Recalling this didn't upset me because, despite her being my biological mother, I did not know her. I never got the chance to know her. My name is the only memory I have left of her. But, if I were to give my mother a colour, I think she'd be yellow.

My father always described her as being his ray of sunshine. Is this why I associate her with the colour yellow?

I suppose this is also the part where I mention that I have Asperger's syndrome. I am aware this is no longer an official diagnosis but I find it difficult to explain how my mind works by just referring to what I have as 'ASD'. I like to refer to what I have as 'sparkle syndrome' but people usually look at me funny when I tell them that this is what I have.

I have read about people with Asperger's syndrome in books. I find that they often obsess over numbers. I wish I was like that. I wish I obsessed over numbers. I was never good at Math. In fact, I hated the subject. This was upsetting for my father because he assumed Asperger's meant that I'd be born a genius. Instead, he got a son that obsesses over colours.. and Kirby.

You see, every person has a colour. You could say it's like an aura, but not quite. Truthfully, I do not know what an aura is exactly. I just enjoy assigning colours to people. 

For instance, Elsa is pink and Tyrone is blue.

My father taught me at a young age that relationships comprise of two people: a man and a woman. My father had also taught me that blue is a symbol of masculinity and pink is a symbol of femininity. I believe every relationship requires a blue and a pink. 

Outside of the relationship, to me, Elsa is purple and Tyrone is green. I do not know what these colours mean, I just know that they make sense to me. 

I had met Elsa and her boyfriend, Tyrone, in my last year of college. They were the only friends I had, however, this is due to personal choice. We met when Elsa pointed out my Kirby wallpaper on my laptop when we were seated next to each other during a lecture. She introduced me to her boyfriend the same day. Ever since then, we've been practically inseparable.

I was envious of her relationship with Tyrone. Not because I had feelings for her but because I wanted a pink of my own. As a man, I was certain I'd play the blue role in a relationship. But I had a difficult time forming romantic connections with women. I blamed this on my Asperger's.

"Juno. What colour do you think that man over there is?"

I followed Tyrone's finger with my eyes and looked in the distance to where his index finger was pointing - at an elderly man with a hunched back. He was eating alone. He reminded me of my father. Was my father eating alone too back at home? Or was he eating with his friends?

"Yellow," I nodded. 

"I was going to say the same thing," Tyrone grinned . 

Tyrone was an incredibly handsome man. Anybody would agree. He had dark skin and captivating dark brown eyes. He had dreadlocks tied up into a ponytail that reached the nape of his neck and he'd regularly complain about how difficult taking care of it was. 

Elsa, on the other hand, was beautiful too. She had dyed her hair a vibrant purple that had begun to fade and her natural black hair announced its existence by growing in from her roots. She, too, had dark skin, which complimented her dark eyes perfectly.

You're probably wondering what I look like.

I don't take too much pride in my appearance. I don't pay attention to it at all. I have dark, curly hair that I'd inherited from my mother and dark brown eyes from my father. My mother had green eyes. I often find myself thinking that I'd look better if I'd gotten her green eyes. But my father tells me that I should be proud of what I have.

Should I be proud that I have Asperger's?