Jeff, my boyfriend, was a very talented painter and was held in great esteem at our high school, where he had already won many awards. But it was the end of year arts festival competition that he wanted to win the most. The prize was $5000! More importantly, Jeff knew that winning would be the first step towards achieving his dream of one day being a respected and famous painter.
He started working on his entry months before the festival. He became obsessed with it. He would wake early to work on it, go to school, come straight home and shut himself in his room to work on it some more. At first I didn’t mind, after all I was always very proud of his talent and he knew that. But this was different. He had never been so obsessive about a painting before.
Soon I became tired of making excuses for his absences from parties and social events and I started to become angry that he preferred to spend hours in front of his painting instead of spending time with me. It quickly became a sore point between us. When I asked him to spend some time with me for a change, he would refuse and go back to his painting. I would complain and he would get angry. We fought about it for weeks.
Finally the painting was finished and Jeff took “the masterpiece” to school the next morning. That’s when I did it.
I went to the room where Jeff’s painting and others for the festival lay and waited until everyone left. Quickly I threw bright red paint on the surface, painting angry red streaks all over the beautiful eagle that Jeff had so lovingly and patiently worked on for months. Then I left.
I didn’t know how to feel. I felt guilty but gleeful. It served him right for ignoring me. That was until I saw Jeff’s face the next day. He was distraught and could barely speak. I tried comforting him, my guilt rising every time I looked at his shattered face. It’s only money, I said, there would be other competitions. It was then that he told me.
The winning prize was not only $5000 but also a fully funded scholarship to a prestigious arts school.
It took him a long time to recover from his disappointment and he stopped painting for months afterwards. To this day Jeff still doesn’t know the truth and I vow that he will never know that I was the one who destroyed his dream of becoming a famous painter.
Related stories
Native ad body.
Native ad body.
Native ad body.
