#68 - Picture of
silhouettes jumping off a pier (1 of 100)
I remember that summer like it was yesterday. I first saw her on a despicably hot and humid July day. She sat at the dock’s edge dangling her feet in the water. The sun cast a golden halo over her head.
Her lazy gaze met mine, and I knew I would never be the same. I was drowning, and only she could save me. Just one sideways gaze and I was wrapped around her finger.
Your mother and I spent every day together that summer, so enamored with each other and life. You came into the world the next summer.
#44 - Baggage (2 of 100)
I’ll never say this to you, but when I saw you dancing in the rain I wanted to lay my heart at your feet. I wanted to pour out my soul so that you could make everything better.
I wish I could, but I can’t. I can’t speak to you, I can’t live for myself, I can’t leave her. She needs me more than I need to be happy. I’m all she has and I can’t hurt her like everyone else has.
So I’ll watch you from afar, and imagine the conversations we could have had if I wasn’t me.