The Treehouse

She told me that she always wanted to live in a treehouse. So did I. So I took my paints and went to work creating a painting of a giant oak tree on a hill. I painted the branches reaching out into the cool air. I painted the leaves with colors of autumn. And cradled in the nook of the outstretched branches I painted a treehouse. Below the oak with the treehouse I painted text. It said,

"This is the treehouse I built for you. It's in a tree in the countryside of Spain, or in the South of France, or overlooking rice patties in China. This is where we'll live together with the freedom of childhood, where we'll walk barefoot across its creaking floorboards and drink tea next to the woodstove. This is where we'll cook delicious food that we'll eat in bed and where we'll read aloud to each other by candlelight. It's where we'll hang this painting on the wall along with pictures from our travels together.

This is the treehouse I built for you. This is where we'll spend hours talking honestly under blankets, laughing at a time when life seemed difficult. This is where we'll make love, where I'll learn something new about you every day and every time that happens I'll be fascinated. It's where I won't be afraid to look deeply into your eyes, where I'll give you kisses for no reason other than I wanted to. It's where I'll write and paint and wait for you every afternoon to come back from your walks. And every time I see you enter I'll think, 'Beautiful'.

This is the treehouse I built for you. It's in the mountains of Colorado, or the foothills of Patagonia, where the only sounds are that of the brook in the distance, the finches playing on the terrace, the wind caressing the leaves. It's where our son will take his first steps, on a floor suspended above the earth. It's where we'll go to celebrate and to greive, where we'll know real happiness together.

This is the treehouse I built for you, where I wait for you now, watching the sunset in the distance."

The painting was honest. The text, even more so. But I wasn't satisfied after I painted it because what I really wanted to create wasn't the painting at all. What I wanted to create was the treehouse itself.