The Make-Up Artist

Chapter Twenty One: The Letter

First let me say, I apologize for putting this in a letter. I just don't know how else to say some of these things to you in person. Lately it seems like we can't even have a conversation without blowing up at each other, so a letter it is.

Where to begin...I knew there was something special about you the first time I saw you. I know that sounds cliche but it's true. You were just this nervous little thing, thinking she wasn't good enough to be working on a movie set. If only you could see in yourself what I saw (see), maybe we wouldn't be having the issues we are now. Not that I'm blaming you at all. I'm sure I am mostly at fault for everything that's happened.

The fact that you had no idea who I was intrigued me from the beginning. It was refreshing to know that I was just "me" in your eyes.  That you were just being you and not trying to impress me in any way. When you solved the problem of the tooth gap, that's when I really knew that I wanted you around me every day, so that's why I insisted to Lizzie that you be the one to do my make-up from then on. And it wasn't just that I wanted you around to do my make-up, I felt a driving need to have you near me. 

I think the first time I realized it was more than just wanting you around was when you shaved my face. You were so gentle and kind, and when you touched me, I felt like my skin was on fire. I hadn't really had feelings for anyone since my ex-girlfriend and it surprised me. I just brushed it off as an attractive woman touching me, but I now know that it was the beginning of something much more. I truly noticed your eyes for the first time that day. They really give you away, did you know that? I seem to always be able to tell what kind of mood you're in just by your eyes.

I know those first few weeks I talked way too much about nonsense information, but I was just trying to get to know you. I thought if I talked enough about myself, then you would open up and talk about yourself. I was dying to know what was going on in that shy lovely little head of yours.

That day you came in so sad about not going back to L.A. broke my heart. It was all I could not to drop everything, and fly you home just so you would be happy. Seeing you unhappy kills me, especially if I'm the one causing it. I know I wasn't causing it directly, but in a way, I blamed myself because it was me that was keeping you here. I wanted so badly just make your pain go away. So I did the next best thing I could think of by taking you to the Troubadour set. You have no idea what I went through to secure that golf cart, but I'll spare you the details. I was desperate just to make you happy, to see you smile, and you did and it was all worth it. That night meant so much to me, being there with you like that, just the two of us. I felt like I could tell you anything, like it was just you and me alone in the world in that little moment. I had never really expressed my feelings to anyone about being nervous to play Elton, but with you, it just felt natural to tell you. I knew I needed you there for "Your Song". It was suddenly clear to me that having you there would make it all just a bit better. I wanted to tell you then, how I was starting to feel about you. But I couldn't, not just yet. I wasn't sure how you'd react or if you even felt the same way. And then, you acted so strangely when I mentioned my ex, so then I was really confused. I wanted so badly to kiss you that night on your doorstep, but I knew it was too soon and inappropriate. You have no idea how difficult it was to walk away from you.

I missed you so much the next day, I was thinking of an excuse to message you all day. I know it was lame and probably completely transparent, but I finally got up the courage to text you about the call time for the next day. Plus, I really was worried about your reaction to me mentioning my ex. Then we talked a bit on the phone and you started to open up to me and that really meant a lot, more than you know. I decided then and there, that I would come pick you up the next morning whether you liked it or not. And every morning after that, if I could. I just felt like I needed more time with you, outside the confines of the make-up chair.