The Photograph-Love Short Story
[The Photograph – Love Short Story]
The edges of the picture were discolored and had lost the firmness of a freshly printed photograph. The hundreds of thousands of times her fingers had lovingly held and traced it had left its mark, but like the love she had for the boy in the picture, its image seemed indestructible. Her finger felt the pen imprint on the back of it where he had written the date and their initials after they developed the roll of film. Underneath the date were the words, “Can’t live without you.” She laid back against her pillow and wondered if any part of those words still rang true. He had loved her once, and it had been with a fierceness and magnificence that only comes with a love that happens between two young hearts. Hearts who lack those great walls of defense you only learn to build later in life.
She focused in on his eyes, the same ones that had bored so deep into her soul so many times before. It was almost as if the eyes in the photo had the same magical power the real ones had. She searched them, as she found herself doing often nowadays, for any sign that his feelings had already changed when the photo had been taken. Any sign that she should have noticed so she could have been more prepared for the aching hollow feeling she now battled on a daily basis. Maybe her own vision lacked the power his had to see into her heart and mind. He had been a charmer, the kind of boy you know better than to fall for, but it somehow happened anyways. “Watch out for that one, “ her mother had warned.
Her eyes drifted down to his mouth. Perfect teeth encased in a slightly crooked smile that always left her stumbling over her own thoughts. She closed her eyes and remembered the first time the lips of that crooked smile had kissed her own. She had been crying the tears that always come when you have too many drinks. He had held her face to wipe them away, and for the first time they saw each other in a new light. It was the kind of moment that only old Hollywood could recreate. Every atom in her body had reacted to him as if they had waited an eternity for her mind to catch up to what they already knew; he was the one she was to love forever.
Searching her own face in the picture, she wondered if she ever looked that happy these days. There were brief moments where he was pushed to the back of her mind and she was fooled into thinking she was okay. She could still laugh, still enjoyed going out and being social, and her job brought her a sense of fulfillment. Yes, she was functional and probably fooled the world, and herself, into thinking she was a happy girl who was fine. But that smile? No, that smile was reserved only for him. Nothing and no one could bring about that smile. No one but him. Careful not to let her salty tears ruin the only shred of evidence left of what could have been, she placed it safely in the drawer that she kept it in. There it was hidden away from judgmental eyes that told her it was time to let go, that she was better off. In the drawer, along with the photo, she stores her insecurities and fears of never finding a love so true and so raw again, of never again experiencing that impossible feeling where your heart is beating so fast you’re quite sure it’s skipping too many beats to be working properly, but you’re more alive then than at any other moment.
Taking a deep breath, she closes the drawer knowing she’ll be back for more escapes to her better past later on. She stands up, smoothes out the wrinkles in her shirt she acquired from lying down for so long, and begins to head to the foyer to answer the door that is separating herself from another hopeful attempt to find that feeling she aches for. Fingers lightly brushing the stairwell banister, she heads down, turns off all lights but the front porch, and graciously accepts the arm of her date. As she locks the front door, she also locks away the image his face and lends this other boy a different smile. Her mind argues with her soul as it forces her to think, “Maybe this time will be it,” but she’s already counting down the minutes until she is back in her room whose walls grant her the privacy she needs to just miss him.
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