A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words

I had no idea that you had a picture of me on your phone.  Now that I think of it, I want to say that you were clamoring for us to take that picture that day.  At the time, I had no idea as to why you were that interested, that motivated, to have that done.  I want to say that now, I have a pretty good idea why.  As much as I want to say that you think of me just as much as I think of you, now with a picture, you have something more visual, something a bit more tactile at your fingertips. 

It makes me blush just a little, knowing that you have that picture.  I know that you had asked me last week if I wanted you to send me that picture and if you recall, I said that I didn’t want it.  As I write this, I still don’t.  Do not take this the wrong way, as I mean nothing even remotely disrespectful.  The reason why I don’t want that picture is because I know that if I have it in my possession and at my immediate disposal, I will look at it all the time.  I will stare at it.  I will study it in damn near every way.  I will think back to when we took the picture, that day, and even in the moments before the picture was taken.  I know myself and yes, that picture will consume me.  As much as it would become a source of comfort, just the same, it would also become a source of preoccupation and distraction. 

I guess to some degree, I’m trying to protect myself from becoming so enthralled in that picture, looking at it, and gazing at it so intently at seemingly every moment I can find.  Maybe having it would help me to bridge the gap in between the days that we don’t see each other, but know this.  A picture of you could never replace you and don’t think for a second that it ever could.         

I wish I were more photogenic, but from what I’ve seen, you don’t seem to share in that same mentality.  Perhaps for that, I ought to be more grateful.