The Finished Painting

Its getting harder and harder to breathe. I feel weird in my own skin. I wanted so bad to have this life. The beautiful, professional woman with the master's degree and my whole life in front of me. But I'm miserable. I had to help with a project for my internship yesterday, and I actually did enjoy it. While I was there, I met a classmate, who quickly began to flirt with me. He suggested that we exchange numbers and I agreed. While getting my number, he starts to go "Your husband or boyfriend won't complain about me calling you, will he?" I gave a huge wince, to indicate my apprehension. He responded by asking what was wrong. I responded by saying that the last guy I'd had an interest in died about a month ago and since then, I've taken a step back from dating. He apologized and offered his condolences.

Once the gathering was over, I climbed into my car and began to drive to a coffeehouse so that I could get some work done. But I didn't get off at my exit. I started to drive. And drive. Before I knew it, I was about 10 miles further than my exit. I couldn't figure out why I kept going, then I realized what the problem was. I didn't want to do it. I no longer wanted to go to my favorite spot and write. I wanted freedom. Real freedom.

Eventually, I composed myself and decided to head to my coffeehouse. I decided to make a slight detour and I went home to grab my best friend Sky to take him to the coffeehouse with me. We got there, and I started again on Pete. I told Sky how I've tried my very hardest to move forward, but I can't shake it. I told Sky that my time with Pete feels like an incomplete painting. Have you ever walked into a home and seen an unfinished painting? Its kind of unsettling. The thoughts of what is supposed to happen next? What colors are supposed to go there? That's how I feel about my relationship with Pete. What would have happened? What would we have become? It's so hard to go on, knowing that I'll never know.

Sky looked at me and said
"Malika, the painting is finished."

I froze. I welled up. And I cried. He was right. Sky went on to explain that just like the crudely drawn paintings that Pete loved, our relationship was crude and oddly drawn, but complete. So rather than wonder why we didn't come out like some boring hotel painting of flowers, I had to appreciate that our friendship went the way it was supposed to go. I got a beautiful friendship with the unlikeliest of people. But Sky was right. The friendship we had was the friendship we were supposed to have. So I have to appreciate what we had. Because it is beautiful and complete.