Boundaries

Treacherous.

As the early weeks of December fell upon us, London grew colder and brighter.

Lights were being hung up along every street corner, and a large Christmas tree was being set up just across from the abbey.

I had begun my internship, and while I'm grateful for it, I find that I'm nearly driving myself insane with the amount of time I'm having to spend locked away in the basement.

I wanted to get out of there, to be put to the test. I wanted to expand my knowledge of art from experience, not from reading.

But it's best to walk before you run, and I knew that with time I'd be able to live up to my fullest potential.

I can't say that this internship has been working well for Hero, however. My fear of his loss of consistency through me seems to be taking a toll for the worse. Whenever I wasn't at school, I was working, and whenever I wasn't working, I was sketching or sleeping. My life was becoming a never-ending cycle, and I feared that Hero would fall out of the loop.

I was thankful for my weekends off, and most of my evenings. I've learned to cherish every moment I spend with Hero, and not just for the reason of not seeing him enough.

I've lost so much in my life; I can't bear to lose Hero.

Part of me really wonders if he's truly taking a hard hit by my lack of presence. I have this weird feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I've found myself waiting up until the late hours of night for him to return from wherever he is, and every time I ask, he gets defensive and tells me I should know by now that wherever he is, it isn't with the gang.

I wanted so badly to believe him.

Especially because the old Hero was more prone to treachery than this one.

We've worked so hard to build trust between us, and I didn't want that trust to be broken.

The way I saw it, Hero had an addiction to this gang.

For whatever reason, he had this unbreakable bond with them.

So naturally, I could only assume it would be hard for him at first to detach.

One night, I suggested going to support group or therapy, but that didn't go over well.

Hero didn't like the idea of opening up.

Hell, seeing as it was enough of a struggle to get him to open up to me, I can only imagine what it would be like for him to open up to a complete stranger.

After hours of bickering and arguing, I decided to give up.

But I knew the conversation would resurface eventually.

Hero had too many demons to fight, even after leaving the gang.

I wanted him to get the help he deserved.

We sat on worn leather sofa, Hero reading a novel about Michelangelo that I brought home to study; while I was working on a piece for Timothy.

Timothy hosts monthly community art shows at the V&A, particularly popular with young, rising artists to get noticed.

He's encouraged me to participate, knowing people would be more than interested in my work.

I decided to stay away from sketching anything overwhelmingly personal, knowing that it would be hard to let go of if someone wanted.

Instead, I sketched a little girl sitting in a field of flowers.

While it held some meaning to me, I knew that if I thought too much about it I'd dispose of it.