I hadn’t looked at those pictures in months. I had no reason or desire to, and
when I saw them today, they made me sick.
Maybe you couldn’t see it, but I could;
that wasn’t me in the photographs. At least not the me you know now.
There was so much worry behind my eyes. Exhaustion.
You saw a smile, but what you couldn’t see were the eggshells on which I walked for months. I wasn’t alone, but I was lonely. I was afraid. I was sadder than I’ve ever been.
When I look at the photographs now, it feels like someone else lived that life.
It couldn’t have possibly been me,
not this me,
not who I am today, in this moment.
Because now I laugh too much to be that sad.
Now I’m mostly alone, but not lonely.
And I’m not scared anymore,
because I know you’ve got me.
We’ve got this.
Photographs can lie, sometimes.
But you are my truth.
You are the best thing.