Where is my colour?

I was sitting on a bench on a balcony, looking out into the open where the setting sun's splendor was being eclipsed by a dark cloud swallowing a lighter cloud. I see beauty around me and it makes me happy. This happiness makes me sad.

The sadness is not out of cynicism but from a sense of alienation. I haven't felt happiness in a long time. When I'm hit with it out of the blue, I don't recognise it. I can't understand it and I can't talk to it. I am not able to bring myself to locate it. I feel disjointed. I don't want to know it. I want to walk away from it, see it in a new light and at the same time I want it to swallow me for the dark cloud that I am.

I don't want it. What is the return policy on unrequited happiness?

Questions that are asked and never answered are worse than questions that were never asked. Let me go you rotten, sidey, shady, disgusting, slimy scum. I hate it.

I hate that I hate it. I hate that I am able to recognise my hatred towards it but not it by itself.

I see happiness and I want nothing to do it. I see sadness and I want to slowly walk away from it. I see this greyness and I want to stab it summoning all ferocity. Where is my colour?