Incomplete Just Like You

This is a portrait of a specific woman.

I stayed up all night making this. The next day, I invited her over and showed her. I didn’t even explain it, I just showed her. She cried so hard and kept saying sorry. She held me and kept saying sorry.

Should I even break down the symbolism of this piece? Should I go through and explain what each color symbolizes, each stroke? I didn’t have to with her, she knew the moment she looked at it. I could see it in her eyes. We didn’t have to explain anything to each other. We never really had to. We were always able to do that.

Written on the back: June 3, 2016 11:36PM

“I said goodbye to her today. She told me nobody but one person signed her book last year. And this year nobody has. She wanted my name to be the only signature in it. I told her that I wish her well, and that I hope life treats her better. She told me she was happy for me to be finally leaving, and that she could tell I’m getting better. I cried hugging her.”

I’m sorry.