A gift I made for my friend Nathan after a late night conversation we had. I felt as if I spoke ill to him... Though he would never admit it to my face if I had or not. I dare not ask. But I was being too brave, too harsh, too angry.

I got that itching habit to "fix" someone I cared about again.. To fix something that was already patched over years ago but.. in some attempt to get rid of my own feeling of helplessness. I put too much focus into helping a boy who neither wants it nor needs it. He insists on taking life on alone, that everyone will leave him eventually. Why do I feel the urge to prove him wrong? Or argue. Let him think how he wants to think... And for that matter, why do I even care in the first place? In a lot of ways, he's a terrible person.

The girl in the image isn't me by the way. It's a representation of a girl from his past that he never plans to let go of. She made a big impact on his life. Bah, I'm prattling.

Sketchy image is sketchy and smudged. Multiple texture overlay here. Bad anatomy to boot. Yet, I'm still fond of the picture. *sigh*

Drawn listening to this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VwXL-nfMMec "One Day"