After Donna and I left my father's house, we headed down to the beach.

I had to clear my head.

My dad dumping a life time of my work in the trash like it was nothing. I could see Steve or any other of my so called friends doing it, but my father? He said that he did it because he didn't want me to go back to my past. As if I'm so weak a painting would make me become who I was before.

He should know better. After all, he was the one who sent me to Dr. Mince in the first place. He was the one who saved me.

But do I really want those paintings so bad that I would throw away my Father's love to get them back?

Besides, what did those pictures ever do for me? Did they get me recognized as an artist like I am now? No. In fact, I gave up painting to video tape men humping at a sex club.

It was only the work I've done after I was sent to Haven House that got me noticed. The ones I've done after I'd hit bottom and met Dr. Mince and Donna.

Donna.

I looked at her as we drove down PCH.

She's done more for me than I could ever repay. I like spending time with her. She's interested in my work. We both like to eat popcorn and watch reruns of the "Brady Bunch." She's been down the same path that I've been. I look at the scars on her wrists and know that the two of us will be forever linked.

We got out of the car and walked to the end of the pier.

The moonlight danced on the waves.

"Donna?" I asked, taking her hand in mine. "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

I didn't ask her, I just leaned over and kissed her.

She kissed me back.

It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.