Written- 13/05/18
Your pov
Some of the Polaroids were blurry. I hated that because they were the cutest pictures I had ever taken with anyone.
They hung from my mirror, surrounding the edges and draped in fairy lights. I had meant to take them down after everything, but I couldn't bring myself to.
I liked waking up and seeing his face, his hands. I liked looking in the mirror and never looking at me, always staring at the pictures of him, of us.
I didn't want to admit he was gone.
The first picture, was placed at the top left corner. It was taken six months after we began dating. It showed us sitting on a bench, we had asked a passerby to take it. It was autumn and we were surrounded by leaves. Red, brown. Golden- just like him.
My head was buried into his shoulder, smiling, and he was looking at me. He had been trying to get me to look up, both of us weren't ready yet for the picture to be taken. The stranger had snapped it a bit too soon and caught the moment he was staring at me- laughing, adoration in his eyes.
The second Polaroid I had taken myself. It showed a change in season. Snow layered the ground like a blanket. It didn't show our faces, just our hands.
We had been holding hands, the background was stark white. His big hands dwarfed mine and they seemed to fit perfectly. I was wearing a green jacket, half of the sleeve visible in the photo. He had been wearing that light brown jacket with the white fluff inside. That jacket was so soft and always smelled like him. Both our hands were red and numb from the cold.
I can't remember who took the next picture. I guess I had left my camera unguarded and someone had picked it up and snapped a picture of us. Probably my best friend, as I would never let anyone else near my camera. Plus, who else would spot a cute moment between my boyfriend and me and capture it.
The picture was taken at a party. A Christmas party.
There was tinsel draped along the walls and bright coloured fairy lights.
I was wearing a small red dress. It was a low V cut neckline and I had paired it with black heels. Even with the heels, I was about two inches smaller than George.
There had been a piece of mistletoe hanging from the roof. I was standing right beside it, but hadn't noticed it. I was talking to a friend.
George had pulled my hand, spun me round so I faced him. I remember looking up at him in confusion. He planted his hands firmly on my hips and pulled his face close to mine. The picture was taken just as our lips had connected.
I had gotten my cousin to take the next picture. It was one of my favourites. It had been New Year's Eve.
We were sitting on a balcony, somewhere at a party in the city. We had escaped from everything and everyone, my cousin and her boyfriend coming too.
George had pulled me close, sitting at the edge of the balcony, our legs dangling down, and put his arm around me.
The fireworks started and we watched in awe. He had kissed me and the picture was taken just as he had pulled away. We were both smiling widely, glowing with happiness and pure delight.
In the photo, I was staring at the fireworks, at the city below, but George, George had been staring at me. Awe and wonder filled both our eyes, mine at the prospects of the year to come, at the fireworks and magic of the city. His had been at me.
The next photo wasn't a Polaroid. I had gotten a new digital camera and tripod and was dying to try them out. I brought them everywhere.
George had found a field, full to the brim with sunflowers. A yellow paradise.
We were standing in the midst of an endless Yellow Sea of pollen and sweet smells.
I had set up the tripod a few metres away and set the timer. George was holding me, half dancing and half laughing. I was half falling out of his arms and laughing too. Wearing a polka dot sundress, floppy sunhat and sunglasses. My freckles prominent due to the sun.
George's hand was on my waist, but I was slipping through his fingers. A moment after the picture was taken, I had fallen. Squashing the beautiful flowers and we laughed for hours. I remember that day so vividly.
The next picture was the blurriest. It was another Polaroid. Me and George had had a fight. We had screamed and shouted and the picture showed us, my hands shoving his chest. I can't remember who took the picture or why. I can't even remember what we had been fighting about. I had tears and mascara down my face but George was calm. He had been trying to calm me down too.
There was a picture of George after that, a few weeks later, autumn time had come again, but we were inside this time. On his bed. He had been sitting across from me, me cross legged on the bed. We had just been messing around, but I had a moment that I wanted to capture.
I wanted to capture George unaware. He was looking down at his phone and was so zoned out he hadn't heard the click of the camera. It was only when it had developed that he saw it. He was smiling down, hair messy and eyes bright.
The very last picture I hadn't taken and it wasn't of us. George had taken it, on my camera.
It showed me, just like I had done to him, in the spring time. 6 months after I had taken the Polaroid of him.
I was sitting in an airport. My hair was down and I was sitting on a suitcase. I was looking at the departures board, trying to find our flight. My eyebrows were knitted and I was squinting, trying to read the far away board. I looked so confused.
At first I had hated that picture but then George had posted it for everyone to see. I hated it more then. Until I saw the caption.
He had captioned it 'how precious is my girl? She means everything to me and she holds my whole world inside her eyes. I want to spend the rest of my life with her💓'
I felt the same way.
Four years ago. Four years and I still wasn't over him.
Fours years and I thought about him every day. I always wondered if he still thought about me.
Those pictures showed our relationship, our lifetime together. I always thought we'd have so much more time together. I thought I would be able to fill my room with Polaroids of us. I only had enough time to fill a mirror.
George POV (I listened to you guys. I'm switching povs!!! Go me)
I was flicking through my instagram. I had never had the strength to unfollow y/n. Her feed made me smile and whenever she posted selfies I couldn't help but stare at them. She got more beautiful by the day and I wasn't there to see it.
I was just scrolling when I say a picture on my feed that caught my eye. Y/n had posted it.
It showed a mirror. With eight pictures around the frame. Pictures I would recognise anywhere. After seeing them in her room every night, I knew I would always remember them.
But I hadn't expected them to still be there, after all this time.
The caption read
'Let a couple years water down how I feel about you.
You could break my heart in two, but when it heals it beats for you.
If I could do it all again, I know I'd go back to you'
I closed my eyes, remembering all the love we had and how I had tried to let it go. But I just couldn't and now it seemed maybe she couldn't either.
Please come back to me. I love you so much. I don't care how long it has been, I need you. I miss you . I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I'll go back to you. Right now. I'm on my way
I commented before I thought about. Not thinking straight, blinded by the sudden realisation that she wasn't over me, she still loved me and I loved her too. I needed to make things right.
I got in the car before I could think twice and I never looked back.
Felt inspired today and wrote this within 50 minutes XD
Hope it was okay :))
