3/2/20

Still

CLICK! Walking towards the white leather couch, sitting down letting the cool smooth texture dull my sense of insecurity. I was lying on my back, arms stretched above my head, back arched, and one leg bent at the knee, and the other extended, trying to use the whole space, tilting my head towards Jack, he once was a man I knew all too well, but now he was more of a stranger than anything. Looking at him, all of him. His presence took over the whole room, and his height towered over me, his broad chest, that I had once used so many times as my pillow at night, but no longer belonged to me. Jack's face always took my breath away, his dark brunette hair was longer than the last time I had seen him, and his eyes which were piercing gray, didn’t hold the warmth they once had. His whole demeanor had become dark, brooding, and sad. Before I could form another memory, Jack spoke. “Mel, can you try and look compressed… less length, more depth.” I obeyed, and I moved my body, positioning myself in a fetal-like position.  At this point I let him snap a few more shots, walking around the studio, the windows let the light in, making the room glow in a sterile-like way. I bought him the studio space for our first anniversary about a year and a half ago. I knew he wanted this space but didn’t want to buy it because of the cost, I had gotten overtime at work to save up. Jack had been my everything, my first crush, my first kiss, my first love, and my whole world. Memories of us soon cascaded down my face in the form of icy-hot tears. “Mel…” Jack spoke softly, he walked towards me placing his calloused hand on my cheek. He brushed the tears away. I smiled and looked into his eyes. “Jack...”  I spoke in a muffled whisper. Jack took a step back, “Come look at these photos.” Cutting me off not wanting to let my tears consume us. I stood up and walked to where he had placed the camera. Jack placed it in his hand and turned the camera on, he started at the beginning, and I saw the white couch, the light from outside illuminating it. The room was bare. I placed my hand on Jack, and I smiled at him,  “Let me go.” He looked down at me tears in his eyes, “If only I could.”

She really did write from experience or at least she wrote from her experiences and merged them into a collage. I wrote this piece back in college. I love seeing my old pieces, it shows what I felt back then. How I saw things, how I reacted to them.