I saw a picture of you because you are still a friend of mine on the internet…
It was a picture of a wedding with a good amount of cool people in hip clothes… and a lady with light up blinky heels. I didn’t know that even was possible
In this photo, people are mid-conversation, their mouths shaped with what are surely words of no interest to me. One man stands awkwardly in his beard choice. Old friends embrace center frame, most sincerely, with open minds. Forgiving you of doing them dirty in the past.
You stand in the front, slightly off-center, the only one look over at the camera You have that half-smile I recognize. The one between pleasure and obligation. You’re wearing your shirt the way you did… and do… Tucked in to keep your flub from hanging over your pants… You look comfortable and relaxed, with just the most tender amount of self-doubt.
You’re with a girl. She’s brown-haired and side-swept. I imagine that she’s the kind of girl who can’t easily shop for jean shorts, and speaks more often like a sailor then not. She seems like the kind of girl who hates other girls because of self-esteem issues. Her gaze is focused on the embracing couple as near strangers capable of judgement. She stands bolted next to you like you’re her anchor in the social storm.
You two seem finely matched… but what do I know? (Nothing at all.)
I accidentally saw a picture of you and it reminded me that I was living with a man rightfully shaking his fist at God, while trying to hold my hand with the other. I was reminded of how fiercely we tried to hold our “relationship” together, and how devastated and relieved we were in its destruction. There’s water under that bridge.
I accidentally saw a picture of you. No big deal. I wrote about it.