Photos

I was going through my photo albums

and I chanced upon the photos of us.

I saw photos of us before it all began.

I remember a mixture of happiness and unpredictability

for I was threading on uncertain ground

and then there was

that tinge of sadness for what I had previously lost...

but that tinge was of course hidden, masked away in the

joy and excitment of it all but it was still there nonetheless

on the surface of my skin.

I also saw the photos after it all happened.

I remember with a heavy heart

the sadness captured so perfectly in my eyes,

the salty tears that fell

that rolled from my checks

creating tracks of bitterness.

I remember the pain in my heart which was so intense

the pain that choked me

that shrivelled my insides

and I think back and wonder why I put myself through it all.

Why I allowed myself to feel this way.

I then flipped through the photos that followed thereafter.

I remember so vividly the amalgamation of emotions,

see-sawing precariously between happiness and sadness,

hope and despair, euphoria and emptiness.

The dreams that floated right before my eyes

the ones that I kept away secretly in the recesses of my heart.

And now, I cannot bear to see the photos anymore.
I am keeping them away again for another day when I am stronger.

Or for the day when you return to me.