There has been a camera sitting undeveloped on my bookshelf, filled 2 years ago with memories, for a very long time. I kept meaning to get it developed, forgetting it when I went out, and when Andrew and I broke up I couldn’t remember what was on it, so part of me was scared to get them developed. But considering how blank my walls are after removing all my pictures of Andrew and I, I wanted to have something to fill my picture frames with. So I took a leap of faith, told myself I could always tuck those photographs away, and made my way to the Wal-mart photo center.
And I’m glad I did.
Surprisingly, there were only two pictures of Andrew in the mix, and neither were upsetting to see. The rest were either of my family–there is a lovely one of my sister and I–or of my friends from my summer of crazy parties. Some of them should probably never be seen by the light of day (it was a very crazy two weeks that summer) but others are cute and will look nice up on the walls, reminding me of the people who love me. I even bought a brand new picture frame to hang on the wall. There is something about pictures that I just love, moments in time, captured forever, reminding you of everywhere you’ve been.