She had always lived life in black and white. There had been splotches of color that filled her canvas but they soon faded until black and white was all that remained.

He had tried to paint vibrant streaks but she wasn’t ready and all he managed to do was mix and blur and create a gray blend of confusion and regret and sadness that didn’t seem to disappear just because he did.

For the first time, she had a clean slate filled with endless possibilities. She could scribble and smear and play until it became a beautiful mess of hope.