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The painting is sitting in the passenger seat now. It is my companion. 

I wish I could explain why I took this one in particular. But I just…I liked it. It made me smile the moment I saw it. Gave me a kind of good ache right behind my ribs. 

It reminds me of my mom. I don’t know why. She never went to Santa Fe, I don’t think. I don’t know that I ever heard her even reference it. It’s about as far from what she knew in her life as you can get in this country. 

But there’s something about the colors in it. They just made me think of her. So I took it. 

I don’t know why I said I don’t know what caused Harry to change. Of course I know. Or, at least, I think I do. But she…it’s been six years. Not to say that she should be over it, or even that I’m over it but…at some point you have to move on, right?

Yeah. You have to move on or you’ll die driving yourself insane. 

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