The universe and her, and I

F L I G H T

During my creative sabbatical, I thought it would be a good idea to put everything art-related in the attic. But a few holidays passed so things started to get moved around resulting in all my art supplies being scatted across the attic.

I ended up finding everything I needed except for the box that had my favorite paints. It wouldn't be the end of the world if I didn't find them I had other paints that worked just fine these just were handmade made from crushed shells from the beach; Thatcher made them for me for my birthday.

But I wanted a space I could get dirty and not have to worry about  Thatcher killing me for ruining the floors and claiming we'll never get our deposit back even though his parents owns the flat, so I deemed the attic my new art studio. I pushed all of the storage containers to one side of the room and set up my easel right in front of the window hoping it would spark something, it never did. I waited and I waited for that spark of inspiration but it never came so I spent most of my time sitting on the floor just staring at my blank canvas.

"What on God's green earth has compelled you to come up here?" Thatcher asked from the opening in the floor with a look of disgust on his face as he took the attic in.

"Cant you tell it's my art studio," I said sarcastically. I watched him look around with a fake smile trying his best to make it look like he liked it.

"Yeah, It's different." He took his focus off my "studio" and brought his attention to my blank canvas. "You know I think this one is my new favorite."

"Ha Ha very funny," I fake laughed snatching the blank canvas off the easel and setting it against the wall. "Somethings wrong with me."

"There's nothing wrong with you, you're just having a creative block every good artist goes through one."

"You haven't gone through one," I said folding my arm over my chest.

"I said every good artist, I'm great." He said with a straight face that would have a stranger believing his dry sense of humor.

"I hate you," I laughed rolling my eyes.

"You love me, But seriously you'll get over this hurdle I have faith in you."

"I just hate waiting."

"I know what you need." He said pulling me to the window. "You need some time away from this place."

"And where do you suggest I go?"

"Home?"

"That's the last place i want to go" I said rolling my eyes and walking over to my paint mess. "Besides I haven't talked to Rose or my dad in months."

"Yeah you see I kinda thought you did and I accidentally kinda told her." He mumbled scratching the back of his neck.

"You did what!"I shout stumbling over my mess to get closer to Thatcher hoping I heard him incorrectly.

"She called me two days ago worried about you because you wouldn't answer your phone and I just told her you were still bummed out over the break up not knowing you never told her."

"What did she say?"

"You can find out for yourself." He smiled handing his phone out to me. I looked at the lit up screen and sure enough the contact Rosie lit up the screen, luckily the call was muted so she didn't hear that I didn't want to come home. Its not like I didn't want to go home to see her it was because I wasn't sure I'd be able to go home and be surrounded by all the memories. Everything that town has to offer would remind me of Wyatt and I'm not ready for that.

"Hey Rose" I said softly taking the phone off mute and placing it up to my ear.

"Hey Griff," She said even softer than myself. I could tell she was sad for me. " How are you? I haven't heard from you in a while."