Snapshot of Life

I want her to be happy. I'm just so afraid that that happiness doesn't include me. I think to myself as I eagerly wait for the photo to develop. The bright fluorescent lights permeated the room with a dejected spirit. My mind went awry, the Christmas tunes of a nearby radio faded away and the frigidness of the studio's bench under me seemed to dim. An older lady stands up from across the room, looking more nervous than I am, making her way to the front. She bustles through the crowd of people as it always gets busy come Christmas time. My eyes try not to peer too long, yet still catch glances. I notice her pick up the photo she was waiting on. Her face remained expressionless for what seemed like an eternity. She broke down into tears, dropping to her knees. "It can't be true! It can't be, it just can't" she repeats sounding more defeated with every word.

The double-sided nature of this procedure remains controversial for this very reason. These photos are special and their development process remains a secret to most. I recollect myself from the trance-like state I was in while watching the woman break down. It just reminds me of her, breaking down after the long fights we always have. Many have been slowly chipping away at our relationship, making it harder and harder to see the good in it. We live thousands of miles away from each other both with our own lives and it's just weird because it's such a big change. We went from spending every waking moment with each other, laughing and loving, to only being able to talk to each other through a phone call. We used to talk about life together when we were older like we were sure we would get married. It seems so hopeful to think that way, almost blissfully ignorant of what's to come. I often think to myself if it's all worth it. If I will be able to make her happy. If we could live a fulfilling life together. I wonder if it is truly possible for two people to stay happy together forever. That's why I'm here, to see if our story ends.

The receptionist calls my name causing me to jump. My knees buckle as I stand up, racking my mind as to what I will see in my photo. My shaky legs transition back and forth towards the receptionist and she states, "Remember, we have no control over what is printed in these photos, they are merely a snapshot of your life in ten years. We hope for you to visit us again!", in an almost robotic voice and stoic face. As my hand felt numb trying to grab the photo from her, I maintain eye contact with her, trying to delay looking at the photograph. I peer down at the picture hoping to see what I wanted to see, but I knew damn well I wouldn't find it. I love her but for love to grow it needs two. Without it, love has nowhere to grow and fades away.

I couldn't take my eyes off of the picture, racking my brain for reasons. In the picture I'm standing there with her, looking happier than ever. Except she isn't happy, there are deep bags under her beautiful eyes, a depressed face masquerading under a fake smile. I had gotten lost in the photo, analyzing every frame of it, trying to make out some good in it. As tears started falling onto the photo, it becomes harder to make out. "I just wanted to be happy together, I love you....so much", I spoke to myself. Not wanting to add to the already somber atmosphere of the room, I left out the door in a hurry.

The streets of New York are always busy, polluted with people all with their own lives. Yet as I walked down the busy street, I couldn't help but dissolve the city noise and fall into an endless cycle of thoughts swirling through my head. "Am I not good enough? What am I doing wrong, is there something I'm missing? I want nothing but the best for her, but at this point, all I do is bring her pain," I anxiously muttered to myself. "I want nothing but the best for her...," my mind wandered further. I contemplated that idea, I want the best for her, yet I have such a hard time wrapping my head around letting her go. "How can I just end things though, when she means so much to me," I thought as I reached the door of my apartment building.

I stumbled through the entrance, feeling tired from the uncertainty of my relationship. "Maybe it is time to move on, I love her but perhaps we just weren't meant to be," the thoughts seeming to never end and just circling back to the beginning. Making my way to the stairs, I just stood there feeling horrible about our relationship. "I miss the good old days, our 'honeymoon' phase, where everything just fit into place. Nothing seemed like it could go wrong, yet here I am." I mumbled, not wanting to admit it's gone. Step by step, my legs began to drag me up the stairs. I commented to myself, "I wish I knew I was in the good times before they were actually passed." 

As I reached the top of the stairs my eyes scanned the hallway for my apartment, feeling distraught made it hard to keep focus. I burrowed into my pocket to fetch my keys as I approached the door. "Do I even have the strength to do what seemingly needs to be done? It's not like I am the only one in the relationship, I shouldn't think for her. Yet I know she is struggling to find good in what we have. Is there any good left? For me? For her?" I thought as my mind refused to abandon the conflict. I opened the door sluggishly to find her sleeping on the couch, the t.v. still playing a repeat of some sitcom I never cared for. As the creaking door began to close behind me I stood there, overcome with emotions, seeing her looking as beautiful as ever. Our entire relationship was flashing through my mind. As a downpour of tears started flowing out of my eyes, a half-hearted smile took form on my face.