I've been ill past few days and when it got worse, I received the book that I ordered from amazon. I was in bed and it was best time to read the book. The book is called "Paint it black" by Janet Fitch. I wanted to read this book because I loved the book she wrote before " White Oleander". Also there is a film based by that book. The book is about daughter and her artist mother, somehow I felt it was related me. My mother is an artist and I'm affected by my mother a lots when I was young. Anyway, I've started reading the book I just got from the post. "Paint it Black" it is about the young life drawing model who was in love with the young art student who dropped out from Harvard University. They have a life together until she received the call from the Los Angeles County Coroner asking her to identify her lover's dead body. After she found out he shot himself in the motel, he left the letter for her and it said.
"Dear Josie, We loved each other... Didn't we? I can't remember. You'll have to remember for both of us. I hope you find someone who can meet your needs better than I could. I'm just not up to it. See you in the next life. Michael "
I found this book is quite depressing, also kind of drugging me that stage I was there. I thought I got over that stage I was. It just reminds of me when he called me after the work and he said " I just wanted to hear the pretty girl's voice to cheer me up."
That time, I thought we can go to the restaurant we went again and again, and golden hours never end. He won't take picture of the raw egg in the street. No more shoulder pillows each other. There is no more cheer me up text from him. I found hard to find the person like I could relied on you. I don't know what to say but I miss you still. I do. It was too short.. too short...
