Janet looked as though she wanted to run towards the door. She held onto my shoulders, in decisive for a moment. She let go of me after a long moment,...stood up and walked slowly towards the door. She gathered her jacket and purse, and left the room. I laid there, in emotionally agony, not able to reconcile what I had just seen. I wanted so much to run after Janet, to somehow convince here that it was only one, vision not my whole being. Even if my body could have obey me at that point, I don’t. She could stand in front of a canvas for hours, sometimes forgetting to eat, on only two or three hours of sleep a night, and paint to her heart's content. Several local galleries were showing her work and while the sales were few and far between, they were enough to keep her motivated to continue her passion. Her military pension paid the bills so she was comfortable and happy. Single life wasn't necessarily to her liking but she wasn't so desperate to be in relationship that she would jump at. More

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