An Unfinished Painting

1- The Wedding

   Standing in the back of the chapel, hearing the wedding bells ring after the two newly weds officially are pronounced husband and wife. I would congratulate her, but how could I when I am currently wiping off tears from running down my face while reeking the smell of alcohol. I left almost immediately after that, or else she would have seen me and happily greeted me with her husband that she dated for only two years prior to getting married to.

The black winter coat I am wearing is blowing behind me, making me keep my hands in both pockets to try and keep my coat down. I can feel the back of my black leather loafers ripping off my skin because my socks are too thin. The top three buttons of my blue button up are undone and my black pants are starting to become too big for me. I left right after the wedding ceremony, it was the first day of Fall Semester. I walked into the bathroom at the university I teach at in New York City, caught off guard by my reflection from the mirror that is placed right in front of the door as I walk in. I have a thin oval face, along with high cheekbones that show a little too much, a thin nose, and my jawline is rather sharp. I have one freckle on the bottom right of my lip that stands out do to my pale skin complexion. I can see the bags under my eyes starting to darken as the dreadful and long days go by. I quickly pulled my messy dark brown hair back into a low pony tail and headed over to the literature department at New York City University. I am a literature professor, having published two best sellers in the country but reached a writers block two years ago, around the same time the girl I am in love with introduced me to her new boyfriend.

I walked into the lecture hall a few minutes late, walking into the first day of school awkward silence. "Morning class," I quietly said as I approached the podium. My classes are usually full due to my reputation, which is more exhausting than anything.

When I look up at the many college students seated before me, all I see are blank faces, as if I am looking at hundreds of different colored dots. The class ended a little past three and as usual, I walked over to my desk to grab my brown leather bag before heading out.

"Professor" I turned around to see a young girl who almost immediately reminded me of her. With the exact face features, the student even had the same blonde long hair that she had back in college. I was so infatuated with how much she resembled her, that I did not hear anything this student was saying to me. "Um, Professor Jay?"

I took off the round thin seeing glasses I was wearing, "Could you repeat that?"

She giggled a little before answering me, "I just wanted to introduce myself." She held out her hand, "My name is May Lane, I'm a third year."

I looked down at her hand then back at her, "I usually teach fourth years."

Before I could say anything else she cut me off, "Yes! I know!" Her voice was very enthusiastic, "I'm looking forward to your class this semester." She glanced down at her hand that I still have not shook. I hesitantly started lifting my hand up until she decided to grab it herself and quickly shake it up and down, "Don't worry, I don't bite." Her smile was carefree, just like hers, "I'm a big fan of the novels you have wrote."

I really do not know what to say in moments such as this one, "Thanks." I awkwardly turned back around to grab my bag that was placed on the desk in the lecture hall that had just ended.

"Maybe we can grab lunch one day, I would love to have a conversation with my favorite author," She smiled at me. I looked down at her outfit, cuffed white pants with black tennis shoes and a loosely fitted light brown shirt.

"I don't go out with my students," I turned back around, grabbing my bag from the desk, "I'll see you next class."

"It would just be lunch," She started following me as I walked out of the classroom. I stopped walking and stared at her, she was taller than me, ( I ended up having to look up at her.)

"You're still my student," I said as I looked back down and walked away.

"Maybe some other time!" She shouted this from across the hall in the Literature building.

Another long exhausting day and another night walking into an empty dark home; the only light being the setting sun that was shinning through the glass windows of my living room as I sat on my dark red velvet couch that looks straight out onto the city. I started drinking red wine almost every night, tonight I drank two bottles and doze off into a deep sleep.