Are we willing to try things differently?
While painting the apartment they have an argument; he pushes her, she trips over the can of paint, spilling it across the floor. Having had enough, she leaves both the apartment and the relationship. For months he fumes about how unreasonable she was/is and refuses to clean up the spilled paint. One day his heart turns around from blaming her to missing her, and he can no longer stand the evidence of the paint spill. He scrubs, and scrubs, trying to make his mistake go away, trying to make it as if none of it had happened, trying to make it be like before, trying to scrub away even the memory of it.
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