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Smile for the camera

I’m looking at this old photograph of you and I

And I’m trying to picture

Trying to picture what things would be like, I mean

If we could stay in this frame right here

And stay seventeen

They say that nothing lasts forever

So I guess this picture was nothing at all

And if what they say is true

Then I guess we had it all

This snapshot was just one fraction of a fraction

Of our moment, our fling

A moment in time, so small in comparison to all else

But to me that moment was everything

Mixed and mashed and tangled and jumbled

This was it. This was the barely seen over, all too true and all too soon realization that it was over. I didn’t see this coming and didn’t want it to, either. Nor did I understand that the idea of ‘over’ was much too easy, much too… simple, at least for our tastes.

No, you and I could never deal with just ‘over’. We want ‘kind of’ and ‘open’ and ‘with benefits’ and every part of it. We want to go from together and back again and back once more until the lines between us are so blurred and twisted that untangling this mess seems too big a task for just the both of us.

Unwinding this ball of yarn wouldn’t be so hard if we could just both start on the first knot. After running through the history book of us over and over, flipping through the pages so many times that my head hurts, I’ve realized it now—we’ve unraveled.