I almost had forgotten her silver eyes when I saw the painting of her in the gallery. Red hair, full lips, and sidelong glance – without any hesitation it was her face. The painting was the size of the wall and everyone in the gallery could notice every detail on her skin. I did not want them to look at her like I do, to notice her beauty and to stare at her for hours. I always was trying to hide her as far as possible from everyone else. And now I see her face here open for everyone to fall in love.
I could not leave and I could not stay. I was feeling everything and nothing at the same time. I tried to think of this painting as just an image, but could not help imagining her being alive. I was standing at the same spot the whole night just staring at the painting. I did not know who painted her and whether they were close. And I did not care. At this point, everything I was trying to hold back for such a long time just came right back to my mind. I remembered last time I saw her and how her hair was red and her eyes so bright that I could not look directly at her. I remembered the day her family told me that she was not with us anymore. The memories were coming through me bringing back all the emotions I was trying to avoid for the last two years. I was trying to let some of the emotions out, to cry or scream, or do at least something, but I could not.

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I did not notice that the gallery is now empty. Someone tapped me on the shoulder.
I turned back and saw her silver eyes staring at me.
“It’s been a long time.”