Eventually this grows old too

For a long time I needed that camera. For a longer time I looked at those pictures. Carefully keeping my distance. Sublimely creating/controlling my narrative. It can't hurt if I write the story. All that mattered was to keep myself from that pain. Arm's length would work just fine for now. How about an old album on my tense lap. With pictures of him, my dad, filling the void of reality. It was easier like that for a long time.

submitted by
SMW, age 28
Toronto, Ontario, Canada

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