Love Eventually

Chapter 1

                                                                     "Souls don't meet by accident."

It wasn't working! It was so frustrating that my efforts had been wasted on this painting. It made me want to tear chunks of my hair out, scream at the top of my lungs. I imagined my detail brush morphing into a dart the needle piercing the thin stretched canvas smack in the middle of monument valley. Why I decided to paint a dry desert with boring rock formations is beyond me at this point. The frustration had taken over my brain to the point I only saw red.

Who knew that one painting could cause so much hate from me. Actually, it's not really a mystery. This has happened when it came to my paintings many, many times. And it's all because it's missing that stupid spark the judges said two years ago. Two flipping years ago! It makes absolutely no sense! My art has gotten so much better, I've made sure that every brush stroke is precise, every color perfection. But even after months have passed and seasons changed there's still that nagging voice in the back of my mind. You will never be good enough.

With a huff I set down my detail brush, sighing as my fantasy of playing darts lessoned. No matter how much I despise a painting, which is a lot recently, I still would never ruin one. Weeks went into a piece. I wasn't going to tear it apart no matter how strongly I wanted to. At least I could imagine taking my pallet knife to it with a smile. Sighing again I quickly signed Evelyn Ferrara in the bottom right corner. At least I liked my loopy signature.

I set the marker down picking the canvas up by the sides. Glaring at the sunset desert landscape I pivot away from the easel ready be done with this forever. My glaring must have obscured my vision because just as I stepped away from my work space my foot catches on my stool. My flailing limbs are airborne for 0.5 seconds before I crash haphazardly to the hard floor, also managing to send my linseed oil flying but saving my painting.

"Damn it." I whisper under my breath.

Leaving the painting discarded on the floor I lunge for the oil as if my life depends on it. Technically my wallet does. That stuff is expensive! Acting as if I'm in some cool action film trying to save a priceless artifact, I snatch the linseed oil before more dribbles out of the bottle. To my dismay half of the bottle is now splattered all over my work station and slowly dripping into a puddle on the dirty concrete floor.

In my lame attempt at saving my precious oil I start scooping it back into the bottle like its liquid gold.

"It's okay, it's fine. Everything is perfectly fine." I say, trying to convince myself. "We'll get you all cleaned up like new. Don't worry little linseed oil. You still got some life in you."

My fingers are slick with shiny smelly liquid when a person clears their throat. I freeze, my face turning red. My cheek was practically plastered against the floor, paint smeared on my arms as I earnestly told an inanimate object they were going to be okay. I looked like an insane person!

"What'd do this time Evy?" A laugh in his voice.

Instantly relieved I peel my face from the cold floor and grin at my favorite person in the world.

I hold up my hands in defense. "I swear, it was the painting!"

"I'm sure it was." Michael laughs openly now. "You have threatened to turn it into a dart board these past weeks, I'm sure it needed to defend its self." He says smirking.

He gives me his hand and pulls me to his feet.

"Laugh all you want mister, but if you keep making fun of me, I can think of something else to be a dart board." I grin broadly at him, only half joking.