all i see are pieces of her everywhere i go. i can’t watch the sunset, at least not the way i did before i met her. she left this photo by my nightstand the morning after she left. she was staring through the fence at the manhattan skyline, smiling to herself as the sunset cast a halo around her hair. she pulled me closer to her so i too could look at where she was looking, but i was too busy looking at her to notice the view, because, well, she was the view. i didn’t plan on telling her then that i loved her, but i knew it in that moment that i did - that i was in love with her and falling more and more in love by the second, and so with our faces pressed against the cold metal, i whispered ‘i love you’ just as she took this photo. it was taped to the center of our bedroom wall, opposite the bed, and just above my desk up until she left it resting on my bedside table, atop a pile of other photos of me and her that she had taken throughout our relationship. as i looked at each one, i could vividly remember that moment in my mind - what she was wearing, the smell of her perfume, the way she laughed (echoing in my ears), and most of all, the way she looked at me. though i never would’ve imagined us breaking up and still don’t believe it most days (but that’s denial i guess), the times that it crossed my mind as a possibility -because humans are unpredictable - i always figured that she would keep these photos, not because she still cared about me, but because she wanted to hold onto these memories even if they were tainted with me. yet, she’s left me with every single photo. for good. and now she’s given me the photo that truly started ‘us’ - the moment i told her i loved her - so i guess she’s moved on. i’m not sure if i will.
— n.d.