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In the car, the fear of overwhelming him, of possibly pushing him away with the convoluted truths of my existence had been paralyzing.
As long as I had known Kaz, he had shown me nothing but strength and protection, but this was different. This was not just sharing a problem or a fear; this was sharing a fundamental shift in who I was—or who I thought I was.
Therefore, I had almost lied.
Thank God, I didn’t.
Kaz embraced me in all my complexity and madness when I couldn’t accept my own self.
He loves me. . .so. . .I’m going to keep letting him love me.
And yet here I was, still questioning his love.
One personality like Lunita might have been enough for him to swallow, but now there’s more.
Would he still love me after hearing that?
I drowned in embarrassment.
Stop. It doesn’t matter if I deserve Kaz, Max, Emilio, and Paolo.
A cold shiver ran through me.
I’m not going anywhere. You three. . .are all mine. I would fight someone over you all.
With that, I returned to my painting and put all my inner conflict on the canvas.
My brush strokes became a dialogue between my fears and my hopes.
Despite the complexities of my condition, Kazimir had chosen to stand by me. And Paolo, with his unconditional affection, and my baby son, with his inherent trust, offered me love in its purest form, unburdened by the shadows of doubt that plagued me.
I’m Emily.
It was just me, the canvas, and the colors that brought my inner world to life.
I’m the Mouse.
I picked up my brush again to continue painting the little girl. Her innocent gaze seemed to understand more than anyone else; accepting me without question or judgement.
She mirrored Kaz’s unconditional love in her painted eyes.
I’m the. . .Boss.
Each stroke on the canvas felt like a confession.
I made sure the little girl clutched her stuffed lion.
And. . .I’ll live with that for now.
The clatter of late-night street cleaners echoed between the buildings.
I finished the little girl’s image, went to the space on the left of her, and traced an outline of Amber.
Will I meet you? And does it matter?
I guessed that Amber looked like me, but I still couldn’t do more than create the shadowy outline.
Unsure of what else to do, I set the brush down, picked up the joint, and lit it.
