Through The Lens | ✓

25

I was sad. I was broken. And just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, it did.

I don't know why I went back to that cafe on Wednesday. Maybe because it was weird thinking that I wouldn't be going back there all the time.

But I guess also because I hoped that I was just hallucinating yesterday, and Finlay never had a girl at his table, and was kissing her. But I probably wasn't.

I decided to take with my photo album and Sharpies to decorate it. I didn't want to take photos of Finlay anymore, those days were over.

Because in the end, Finlay didn't belong in my life. He belonged in my camera, where I watched him through the lens.

But the cafe was a new part of me, so I went anyways.

I walked through the front door of the small cafe on 31st Street. I ordered a hot chocolate to drown myself in, with nothing else. I wasn't hungry.

I sat down at my usual table and didn't look at Finlay, but instead, started doodling in the album.

Only two pages had photos. All of the other 98 pages were empty. And that wasn't going to change. I glanced up just because I couldn't help it to see Finlay sitting at his table, alone.

But he was talking on the phone.

I suddenly didn't want to be there anymore. I took a sip of my cocoa before shoving my markers in my bag and standing up.

To get to the door, I had to pass right by Finlay. So, with my head held high, I did just that. But me being me, the album fell out of my hands, right by Finlay. It fell open, the first two pages facing the ceiling.

Finlay looked down at the album and picked it up. I cringed, hoping he wouldn't look at the pictures. 

He did.

And the words that I had written along the outside of the page stared straight at him.

Finlay Thomas. He was a beautiful boy, a beautiful person. He read a different book every day, played with his lip as he read, and scrunched his eyebrows together when he was confused at something on the page.

I never really talked to him, just watched, and took these pictures. It may seem weird, or crazy, but to me, it was just my way of watching the person I love.

I'd never show him that I loved him, or that I watched him almost everyday from afar.

But I loved him. Finlay Thomas.

Finlay looked up and closed the album. He looked at me sadly and stood up in front of me. He handed me my album. I gulped and took it from him.

And that was when I noticed the wedding band on his left ring finger. "I'm sorry to tell you this, darling, but I've been married for a year. If I had known you were doing this, I would've told you earlier. I'm very sorry." I stared at him in total shock. "Great photos, though. You're an amazing photographer."

Then he grabbed his bag and left the cafe. I stood there, watching him leave.

How did I never notice that ring on his finger?

Totally angry at myself, I whirled around and walked toward the front door.

But before I left, I chucked the album in the trash.