I\'ve never deleted photos.
I keep old ones stored safely,
On my phone in a folder called
\"Moments.\"
Moments, not memories.
Because not all of them are fond,
And I don\'t remember most.
I put them away and forget about them,
Until random Friday nights,
When my house is empty,
And the skies are dark.
On random Friday nights,
They become gateways to my past.
Old friends.
Old clothes.
Old laughs.
Old versions of myself,
I thought would stay forever.
I keep them always.
Not because I want to remember them all,
But because sometimes,
On random Friday nights,
I long for the people in them,
To come back into my life.
On nights like this,
It seems more possible.
More raw.
Than it has ever felt.
One photo becomes ten.
Then twenty.
Eventually turning into,
An entire story,
Of a version of myself,
I forgot I still carried.
Smiling faces,
Of people I haven\'t talked to in years.
People who knew everything about me.
My favourite colour.
My favourite songs.
The tiny things that annoyed me.
And the little things,
That always made me laugh.
People who felt permanent,
In a way that can\'t be explained.
The strange thing about photos,
Is that they never change.
They immortalise people,
Who never knew they would leave.
The people inside them,
Stay exactly the same,
As the day they were taken.
Their smiles never fade.
Their voices never grow distant.
They never become strangers.
Only the people,
Holding the phone do.
Sometimes,
On random Friday nights,
I stare at them for too long.
Trying to remember what happened after.
Trying to remember,
When we stopped talking.
When conversations grew shorter.
When seeing each other,
Became remembering each other.
Most of the time,
I can\'t find the answer.
Because there wasn\'t one moment.
No single goodbye.
Just distance.
Quietly growing between us.
Eventually,
When I find enough strength,
I lock my phone.
The room becomes,
Quiet and dark again.
The people in the photos,
Return to where they were.
Back inside a folder,
Called \"Moments.\"
They stay there.
Waiting for another Friday night.
Waiting for me to long,
For the people in them.
Waiting for me to wonder,
What happened to the people,
Who once felt like forever.