January 31, 2015
In my wallet is a photograph of us. You are sat on a wicker chair, there are flowers in your hair and you are looking up at me, smiling that mischievous smile of yours. My hand is on your shoulder and I seem about to whisper in your ear. We looked okay, then. What the photo doesn't show is that we were arguing. And that a few weeks after it was taken, you left me. You see how one single snap can nearly alter someone's memories? I like looking at that photograph, because in that moment you still loved me.