You go over the pictures that you and your friends took together. As you went on, picture after picture, you noticed that you were always at the side and it's almost as if your face was only captured in half. It's as if you don't belong and you were always the one ready to go. You looked at the smiling faces before you and felt nothing at all. They were all empty. Or maybe that was only you.
You saw some pictures when you were not with them. Maybe you got home early when they took those photos. You don't remember. It was pretty to look at. All of them fit perfectly in the picture. Because you were not there.
You get home from a tiring day and hoped to talk to these few friends that you have. The ones you thought would understand or maybe even listen to you. As you start telling them how your day went, what's running in your mind, what bothers your heart, what burdens you, how scared or happy you are, you noticed that you were never in the picture.
You were just the person that tried to fit yourself in the photo where you never belonged at all. You were the photo bomber.
