The Photograph

Sunday, November 02, 2008

As I think about the changes that have partaken my life in the last couple of years, I can only wonder who I will become. I used to be such an ignorant rebel. And now I'm a weary young adult. Although I cannot say that I have learned everything I need to know, I can say that what I have learned has helped me make decisions in my life that will be the best sorts of decision that I can ever make. There is only one story that is important now.
I gaze at the picture that, at the time, was carelessly placed into this frame. He is standing behind me. He has his arms around me and staring at my hands placed over his, I can almost feel his hands on my stomach. Then I study the picture some more and I could feel my back against his chest, and the cool feeling of the material of his attire. And lastly I can feel how my body fit so perfectly with his, and I close my eyes and cherish that feeling.
But it's gone now, the feeling never lasts. It's like my memory will give me a taste of it and then takes it back, make me long for more. And I'm to blame, for it was I who ended it. But it was done with the thought in my mind that I was doing the right thing. Do I feel regret? Every single moment, everyday. But as I recall my new memory of him without me and with someone else, I let the pain from that image take place of the regret I feel and I walk away.
Do you ever appreciate what you have when you have it? As I steal another long glance at this picture, I see something that I have missed, his right arms is against my side. And for the life of me, I cannot remember how that feels. And the tears flow as I wish to go back to that day and feel his arms around me and cherish it. How I didn't know that it was all coming to an end…
I think of how his fingers interlocked hers and how perfect it looked to an outside observer. I wonder if people ever looked at us that way. She looks up to him and smiles. And I see him take in that smile and give her one back. I never had that. Because I never wanted him to know how I felt about him. I still don't I guess, seeing I hide my feelings behind my own mask. I knew what she was doing, she was showing me that he is hers now. And how right she was…
As I gaze at the picture again, I remember the texture of my dress. And a little more memory surges back. How the glitter from my dress got all over him and I giggled. How the glitter from the flowers were ridiculous and that ended up all over us too. And gazing at the picture, I realize how if I was taking that picture again, I would want to lean my head on him. In the picture, my head is pulled away from him. Another sign that I was trying to pull away from the whole relationship.
I wonder how much he thinks about me. I wonder if he still loves me. And then I don't want to know. I just want one last kiss. To be held one last time. And to have him gaze at me with love in his eyes, just one last time… and I'll appreciate and cherish it…