Of all the places I could be, I chose to be here. I chose this winter wonderland and I wished to be far away from all the stress of familiarity.
Of all the people I could be, I chose to be me. I chose to real and I wished that I could burst my bubble of fear.
Of all the the things I could study, I chose to study you. I chose the colors and vivid dreams and I wished that I could be just as important as you.
the sound of my dad’s guitar playing his favorite chords the typing of my mom’s fingers going through family records the smell of the ceramics studio full of the kiln, dust and glaze the running home
it’s the little things they always say like how you listen more than you ever have before or how you stopped opening my car door like how you squeeze me tighter in our hugs or how you don’t answer me
I cant remember the last photo i took maybe it was a mountain maybe my niece maybe myself maybe you looking away no matter what it was it’s the last thing my lense has seen which means it means everyt