I won’t lie, you asking to draw me was not something I was expecting. I know nearly nothing about you short of your name, and this is the first real conversation we’ve had thus far.

And because nobody has ever asked to draw me.

I keep scratching my nose, fixing my hair, rubbing my eyes. I’m nervous. And antsy. I have somebody sitting in my apartment, sketching my face. My side profile, of all things. How did we get here?