Chapter 6
I awoke to late afternoon fading into dusk.
Sheesh, I haven’t slept that well in ages.
Stretching my arms, I yawned, then swung my legs out of the hammock and touched the soil. My stomach rumbled, so I stalked to the ice cooler and grabbed the last of my deli ham, then sat at the picnic table and assembled a sandwich with two slices of bread, swiss cheese, and mayo.
The LED lights strung above the camp flickered on, and I glanced at the sky, savoring a bit of tonight’s easy dinner.
What would it be like to live amongst the stars?
An owl hooted from a pine tree. Farther away, laughing and shouting floated through the air. No doubt a family enjoying their vacation.
Maybe in another life, that could’ve been me with a loving family, instead of a mom who ran off and left me with her asshole husband.
Stop feeling sorry for yourself. You came out stronger.
I nodded, knowing my inner voice spoke truthfully. “But being strong doesn’t mean I can’t yearn for something different.” Sighing, I grabbed the empty paper plate, stuffing it into the trash bin, then ran cold water from the camp plumbing into a miniature plastic bin I used for washing utensils.
Glancing at my folded easel, I knew just the thing to get me out of my funk. My painting.
I gave the scene a critical eye, squinting through the dusky light.
The starry sky still dominated the picture as the my gaze drifted to the top, but the area in the middle of the foreground still seemed lacking.
“What should I put here?” I stepped back a couple of steps and gnawed on the thin end of my dry paintbrush. “A flower?” It would keep with the nature theme, yet a flower didn’t feel right.
An image of Drayven popped into my mind’s eye. His skin, an intense purple, had felt soft and firm against mine.
He’s what I’m missing.
This thought unsettled me because deep inside, I knew I wasn't simply talking about the painting. Instead of being repulsed by his appearance, the initial shock had turned to curiosity, and something deeper. Knowing the truth of him, the truth in general, felt as if a wall in my soul had cracked. I’d always kept myself apart from everyone else.
Why?
Because people scare me. Every human being I’d ever loved had hurt or abandoned me, but Drayven was no human. He represented hope and the possibility of love if I’d only been brave enough to try.
With my palette in one hand, and the brush in my other, my heart took over and knew exactly what it wanted to say with a few strokes of the bristles. Maybe I’d blown it by shunning Drayven, but at least I’d have this to remind me there’s hope out there even in the most unlikely places with the most unlikely people.
The sadness in my heart lifted bit by bit, and I smiled, knowing in my bones this painting represented more than loss. It promised beauty, love, and acceptance.
It promised change.