21
Anna
While I get the blank canvas and paints ready, I need to tell myself over and over that this is not a Valentine’s Day present. I’m painting this because I have no choice. I need to get this image out of my head. I need to spend time with it and process it in the only way I know how. I can also choose not to give it to Zoe. She may actually think it’s weird.
I’ve put my painting song, “This Is Me”, on repeat. I must have heard it a million times by now and the message of the lyrics may as well be part of me. It’s coming up to the jubilant chorus and I want to have my first brush stroke on the canvas by the time the music swells to a high. So I begin.
By the time the songs starts winding down and I pause, as I always do, to let the words “And I know that I deserve your love” sink
