The warm California air brushed my face. I had only thought of her in passing. What was she doing? How was she doing? Sometimes I’d fantisize about where we’d be if she’d chosen me. But as quick as those thoughts came, they left. Since that night, I couldn’t bear the thought of her, so I forced her out of my mind. Moving on was the only way I’d get over her.

Shortly after she left me, my father, Melvin Porter, passed suddenly. He left me half of his estate, the other half going to my big sister, Kit. We quit our jobs we packed and moved to Los Angeles. It had been five years since I quit BigTex films to pursue my dream, art. The last five years had been like a dream.

Kit had always dreamed of owning her own live music venue. She purchased a venue that served as a coffee bar and resturant by day and a booming dance club by night. She was very happy in her own space to play her music and welcome the music of others. It was the biggest lesbian hot spot in all of L.A. and business was amazing.

I had since stopped working and focused all my energy on painting. Calling on some contacts I had made in college, my work was featured in Los Angeles, then New York, Miami and then catching the eye of International Art Collectors. In two years, my art and photographs were featured all over the world. Peggy Peabody had always believed in me and I kicked myself for turning my back on art.

Today was my one year anniversary at The California Arts Center, I had been a curator and was in line for the director’s position. Soon my thirtieth birthday would be here, and I was to be featured in Modern Art Magazine. That was sure to put me in that new position at the museum.

"Fucking hell," I curse loudly as I stub my toe on a box in the hallway, I see her lounging on the couch, I sign and speak, "Jesus Jodi, your boxes need to go in your art studio. I swear, if I fucking run into another box, I’m gonna flip my fucking shit."