I was thinking that I would start taking pictures of everything that reminds me of you.
The subway stop where you would wait for me.
The store where we looked at rings.
The skyline I took a snapshot of to send to you while you were away.
The place where you stood outside my dorm room, begging me to come down.
The pub where you got drunk and left me alone in a strange city.
The tree we sat under and ate ice cream.
A store with your name on the marquee.
And then I realized that all the photographs would fill up more pages than have ever been read or written.
So, I didn’t.
But that doesn’t mean I don’t think of you.