The photo album lies
Sins of omissions 
Moments not captured 
Pain not preserved.

I want to put it away 
Throw it.
Delve into my memories instead
Those are sharper, more colorful 
Happier, but sadder too.
But instead I look at your face.
I never could turn my back on you,
Not even your picture. 

The photos are posed 
The space awkward 
Neither of us liked the camera.
But there we are 
Over and over and over again
Contained in the photo album. 

My favorite ones 
Have us in the background
Or 
The ones we didn’t know were being taken.
In these, without the plastered-on smiles,
I can read your face
It is an open book 
Written in a language
That only I can understand.

Those moments are true 
Painfully true.

But there is so much missing.
The laughs
The comfort you brought me, 
Just by being at my side. 
My sentences that you finished.
That cannot be gleaned from a photo album.

And the pain 
The confusion 
The guilt.
We didn't drift apart 
As much as you cutting a tie 
That I thought could never be broken
With a single sudden snip. 

The photo album doesn’t tell me that.
It shows only page after page of us.
Photos of a time with no I 
Only we.
And then suddenly
Just me
All alone.
And that is the truth.