My Painting'

Paintings are such a simple yet complex concept isn't it? They create illustrations of what we desire. It could be ugly or fantastic. Amazing really. Colors mix in to portray a scene of which you choose. Everything is possible, you just choose the color to enliven your very picture, and you create a scenario. A shame, how a mistake could ruin the whole idea.

~~~

"Beautiful."

Daniel remarks as he was placed in the middle of the city, one among the millions of the people who live in there.

He looks around one last time, and makes his way back to the apartment.

His hands shake as he stretches them to his pocket. The key met it's partner, then came the click. He dropped himself to the couch, a thud came, but he did not care, why should he? Care doesn't really fall in the category of his life.

He closes his eyes, clears his mind, and the world faded as though water was spilt in the beautiful canvas he had painted. He fades in again, only, this was a different canvas, a canvas where people collaborate on painting the idea they have in mind. Reality.

The light envelops him with it's blinding glare. Then, his vision clears, and the ceiling shading him from the scorching sun meets his brown eyes. He sighs. Not of relief, but out of sadness.

He looks around to find Marion. He could never mistake her shiny bronze hair, her blue eyes, and her beauty, both her physical and inmost appearance. He places the magical brush in the table and walks towards her.

"How'd it go?" She asks. Sincerity being troublesome.

"Fine I guess. You?"

"Same. Nothing out of the ordinary."

"Cool..."

Silence overcame them.

"So... Do you want to use the canvas and--"

"No. Reality is what matters, not fantasy."

"Don't you want to see something extraordinary? Something that's not in the world we're living in toda--"

"No."

"Surely your curiosity strikes you. I've been hogging the thing for quite a while so maybe you'd want to use it as wel--"

"Am I not enough for you?"

He stops. The question came so suddenly that he had been intrigued by it, and that the mere thought of piecing in an answer is difficult.

Marion looks at him. Her eyes shining from the light towering over the two figures over the box they call room. He couldn't move.

"You mean the world to me Marion. You know that--"

"Do I?" Her tone rose. Her eyes are now watering.

Somewhere over his body he knows that there lies a different answer. He couldn't quite comprehend what that is, good or bad, and he could only stare at her helplessly.

"What lies in that frame of white that you can't find in me? Are we not living in a frame where we both live in?"

"Why can't I be myself? I'm not hurting anyone by exploring my own hobby or interest."

She looks at him again. Tears now streaming down her face. He couldn't quite figure what the answer is right now, but he does know he said the wrong thing.

"Is it all about you?"

He opened his mouth but stopped.

"You can't even deny it can you?"

"Why can't I be the hero of my own story?"

"Because two characters drive it, Daniel."

Rain started pouring down amongst them. Its gloomy setting only intensifies the dripping sadness found in their home.

"Do you love me?"

"I do."

"Then don't leave me." She began to sob now. His emotions aren't quite working. He doesn't know what to feel. Happiness always lingered among him in that painting, so it drove away those 'unnecessary' in his life.

"I'm not leaving you. I come back to you whenever I ca--"

"Whenever you can? You could come back everyday at any time. Now I wait for you for days on end. How is it fair on my part?"

He couldn't respond.

"I wait for you everyday. Every spare moment that I could have just with you, I dwell on those. Am I an optional concept in your life? The moment I felt your love towards me I gave mine to you. But it's not important to you is it? I'm just a scenario in one of the thousands of pictures you have painted in your life."

He moves closer to her and reaches both his arms to hers. She moves away.

"Things won't work out the way you like it every time. I have my own sets of colors, and my own set of canvas."

Something wells up within him. Its absorbing nature swallows the very soul of his frail body. He wants to move against but he can't, he's stuck in a canvas and he could only move along. After all, consequences are inevitable, and this just happens to be the one he fears.

"Please..."

"I had already sacrificed so much for you Daniel. Do you think I could lose more?"

Daniel couldn't move anymore. He looks at her but he knows what he has to do. He has two colors to finish this episode, but there's only space for one. But what could he sacrifice? He can't paint the perfect portrait, he never could. No one could. It is saddening how not everyone could hold the brush of a collaborative painting.

"Daniel, is it me or your canvas?"

---

Light befalls the world as the sun yawns from its slumber. His window is invaded by its glare, and he stands rising. His footsteps echoed around the house as he walked downstairs to the living room. He turns the TV on, and puts a movie on play. He reaches for a mug as he started brewing himself some coffee.

As the oozing smoke reaches Daniel's face, the door swings open and the familiar figure contorts his face to a smile. Marion sat beside him and her arms stood placed in his shoulders.

"I'm going to get some fresh air." He told her.

She nodded, and he made his way outside.

The world is in its best today. Trees danced along with the smooth wind. Flowers bloomed from his garden. The birds singing completes the beautiful day. Daniel however, is in awful contrast with the beautiful atmosphere he's submerged in. Tears are falling down his eyes. He cries so hard that the neighbors are alarmed.

His grip tightens as the familiar brush stood captured in his hands.

"I'm sorry."