Her brown hair was chopped to the edge of her earlobes. I looked at her as if I never knew her. It took us a while to calm enough to speak.

I poured four bags of Sugar in the Raw into my cappuccino. She leaned back in her chair, took a long look around Mocha Daze and said now staring at her chamomile tea, "You look good."

"Yeah...I don't think so. Now you look good. The hair is very cool."

"I feel like an idiot." She waited for me to respond but I waited for her to continue, curious if she plans to expound on that. She goes on. "I mean, I only did it because I was so desperate to feel better. You dida bad thing Greg. You really hurt me."

"I'm sorry Donna."

"I know, you've said that, but I still got to tell you how shitty this feels. Don't you think that's fair? I mean, I think that's only fair." Her head shook and her cheeks caved in lightly.

"Sure," I said, "Not only is it fair, but I want to hear how you feel. I really do."

"Well, I'm not going to give you the satisfaction." She stood quickly and left with quick short steps. I followed her.

She had stopped at a sidewalk pay phone and had already begun to dial when I pulled the hand-set out of her hand and gently put it back on it's cradle. She was starting to cry.

"Donna, I've got to tell you our whole marriage fiasco was my fault completely. I can't lie or pretend or blame others anymore. It kills me to see you so distraught and that I caused it. You could be sohappy if it weren't for me."

She let the tears fall and I took her into my arms. "You're being a hell of a nice guy for taking all the blame, but it's not your fault Greg." She pulled back and stood pushing her shoulders uncomfortably back. "I knew it was wrong. I did, but I was scared too. The fact of the matter is, you can't change things Greg and that's what frightens me the most. Don't blame yourself, we're all just trying to figure out the way to live. Like Father Feenan said, 'Only God can change things, we can only honor them.'"

"Father Feenan said that?"

"Yeah."

"He wasn't so bad, was he?"

"No, God bless him."

"You're not so bad either." She leaned in, kissed my cheek, and walked away. At that moment, I knew I would never see Donna, my almost wife, ever again.

This change theme keeps seeping into my life. My father couldn't change me, the church couldn't change me, and Donna couldn't change me. Why did I live my life waiting for someone to change me? And is that what I'm doing now?

Suddenly, I needed more paint and a very large canvas.