These Pictures Tell A Story

Chapter 1: Of Us

Tuesday, May 6, 2020

I looked around at the new open space. The empty house. My mind sharp. Alert. Awake. Standing in the center of the room I took a deep breath in, letting my arms rest at my sides. If someone told me at age 34 I'd be moving into a new house, with a family to call my own I would have scoffed. "No," I'd say, "I'll be running in the Olympics!" Seventeen years ago I had a dream. I had a plan. To keep running, and never slow down, not for anything, or anyone. My life now is a lot different. I'm not on the go 24/7. New job, married, I even have a kid. Let me tell you, taking care of a human life slows you down; A lot. Kneeling down to open another box, my knees make an audible crack as they bend. The box has a few scribbled words on it. They read,

                                                                      High school memories

A small smile spreads on my face as my hand moves to grab the scissors. They make an incision, tearing through the brown packing tape. Opening the box, the smell of new house is quickly replaced by an older smell. More nostalgic and raw. Looking through the cardboard flaps, the first thing I see is a large gold medal, shining in the sun in this corner of the room. I had won many of these throughout my days in high school track, but taking a closer look I then remembered why this one, in particular, was with all my high school things at the top. I remove it. Next, two black caps lay side by side, with black and silver tassels hanging from the top. Our graduation caps. Laughter shook me to my core. It's funny because I didn't actually show up to graduation. How ironic, having it in a box of high school memories. I pick them up and set them next to the medal. The next thing I see makes me hold my breath. It's a book. The cover worn, the pages bent. A dainty set of words lay barren on the front. It's title. The words read "The Story of Us". My heart swells. I thumb through the pages, careful not to damage them. My finger reaches the back cover, but I gasp as something falls out of the book, and my lungs take in air for the first time since picking it up. I set the book aside and lift the piece of paper from my lap to my face. It's an old photo. Not black and white old, but distant in memory. The picture is still in good condition, and as I scan it over my heart skips a beat. It's a picture of my friends and I, standing next to our high school front doors. I'm on the left, younger, more in shape, happy. In the middle is Jesse, still thin and cute, like always. My eyes drift sideways, and on the right, 'she' is standing there. Smiling like the rest of us. Full of life and love. My eyes start to water as I turn it over. On the back, there's a date and title, like all our pictures from then. In curvy neat letters, it says,

                                                       Beginning of spring break

                                                                 2003

                                                                       "Our Story"