I went to her door again, not thinking she would open the door, my heart heavy with the thought. I knocked, and was ready to sit down when the door actually opened. It had been nearly 3 weeks since I had seen her, but she looked different. I walked in, and I knew that something horrible had happened, something unimaginably horrible. She was a bit distant, and wouldn't say what had happened, She appeared as though she hadn't slept in years, and what I did first was to make her some sweet tea, and get her comfortable on her sofa; after I dug it out of the hallway she had wedged it into. I looked at her, and I could see that she was glad to see me there; I hoped she would welcome a new painting to replace the blackness she had created.

I found the paints, and went to work. I painted for days, it had to be perfect for her. It would be different from the last one...which was small, and barely visible. This one, this one would be large, beautiful, and bright, with only one thing different from the real thing, a diamond ring on her finger, that when she noticed it I hoped, she would know that I had resolved my feelings, I had everything figured out now. Everything except what had happened to her.