We were on the metro and she blew me a kiss. Like a boyfriend does, I took a picture.
“Why’d you take a picture?”
“I dunno, it felt right..”
It sometimes just feels right. To take a photo. Maybe a fear that I won’t always be able to remember walks in the rain.
Maybe I won’t always be getting kisses blown to me.
Maybe we won’t always be like this. Maybe our lives won’t be.
Maybe I won’t be in this restaurant again or maybe I won’t remember the way the pan fried fish reminded me of home.
I probably won’t always remember the steam from the rice.
Easy to take for granted.
I always did before. I still do, too often.
I too often didn’t take pictures when I should have.
If I wasn’t going to take the best photo of my life, why take any?
I too often miss the point. I think I get it, but, I don’t.
Spend all my time looking for the best photo of my life.
The best photos are the photos OF my life.
In the end, they will be the ones I am most happy to have taken.
I’m glad she asked me why I took that first picture.
She doesn’t ask anymore.
Seoul, South Korea.