We visit the past and we look in ourselves, endless memories overflowing through the photographs
Think of yourself
Think of a photo of a loved one
Think of a memory you hate
Think of a memory you love
And we sit and stare and peruse and ponder the meaning of our past
Of what came before and what comes now
Of how we were that person
Of recapturing those feelings that were captured by a box
Of knowing we were there, with our friends, in our depression, in our joy, in our pain, in our lives
And we ask ourselves
Am I the person I've always wanted to be?
Am I the person I thought I could be?
And we love our families, and we love our friends
For who they have become and who they once were
And, all the same, the love for ourselves grows and wanes
And shifts every time we open the memory
Every time we look at the photos that matter the most
And in those we find ourselves
Every photograph a link to a time
A time that was in our current
Yet only for an instant
And the miracle of perpetuity
Forcing our memories to never die and never stay the same
I love my life and I love myself
And I don't hear that enough.
A Life Lived