my careless contagion

I printed a picture of us that was taken almost a year and a half ago. Pretty soon it will be two years since we reconnected and started talking. Time flies when you're madly in love with someone. I'll put the picture somewhere. Maybe by my bed, maybe by my desk. I just want to remember you and that day with you that was so perfect. If only I'd made you mine when I could have, we would have had so many perfect days together.  I always thought she was special, and I always thought highly of her. She's made of something different. Other women simply don't compare. She's a rare thing, a thing of beauty. Every single day I count myself blessed she made a meteor strike in my heart, a great cavern in my chest. When she tore into me, I knew I'd never be the same. And I never want to go back to what I was like before. I've seen true beauty, and I cannot forget it. I felt things for her I never thought I'd feel. I saw things in her I never ...

They say a picture is worth a thousand words. If my math is correct, then a thousand pictures are worth a million words.  This woman I had a brief relationship (or whatever you want to call it) with, showed me hundreds, if not a thousand, pictures of her family going back decades. It's fascinating. I can't look at them anymore, but for a while, I pored over them. The last time I looked at them in any depth was December, and that's when I had a breakdown.  Pictures tell stories. Pictures record events. Pictures always say something, even if the characters are trying not to. Something is always conveyed. To the people in the photograph, it may not even be obvious, but it's always there.  Some of those photos are seared in my brain. I don't have to look at them anymore because they'll never leave me. Was she trying to make me jealous? I don't think so. Still, I was jealous looking at those photos. She, her husband, and two children look natural ...