Love in a Photograph

I wake up from the racket noise coming from downstairs, it's only six in the morning. I get up wipe my eyes and see Harry is not next to me. I get out of my bed, go to the bathroom, put a hoodie on and make my way downstairs. It looks like a bomb has hit the kitchen pans, dusts of flour everywhere on the floor, eggs yolk on the floor yuck!

"HEY BREAKFAST" Harry shouts out with a frying pan in my face, "Umm no thanks" I pick up a a piece of toast from the bench. I move into the living room and see so much food. Pancakes, bacon, eggs, waffles. "Did you make all this?" I ask
"Sure did" he replies all chirpy. "I've been up since three" How does he have so much energy. I'm about to say something, but from the corner of my eye I see the white envelope with his name on it in the bin, oh Harry I think to myself.

I walk over to him as he continue to slay over the stove, I wrap my arms around him slowly and put my chin on his shoulder, "Harry, please talk to me." I whisper hoping he will let me in. "I'm making breakfast". "I know." I have no idea how to approach this very touchy subject. "You don't want to read your letter." I ask him, he stops cooking for a minute and walks over to the kitchen counter where he has a drink of orange juice, he gulps it down "no, not really" he wipes his mouth. I walk to the bin and pick up the envelope from the bin. "Come on I'll read it with you."
"Umm maybe later" Harry returns to the stove.




"Here let me do that," I take Harry's plate. "No it's fine I got it." He takes it off me. "No Harry I've go it." I repeat. I take it off him. "HAYLEY PLEASE" I let him take the plate.

We are both now resting on the couch watching tv. Both of us in silence, weird silence. "Harry." I play with his curls and he smirks. "How about we read that letter huh" my fingers continue too ruffle his curls. "Na, just throw it out." Why would he want to throw it our for? I mean it's his parents final words to him who knows what they might have to say. "Are you sure?"
"Yes Hayley, I don't care what it says?" he huffs
"But it might bring some closure." I really want him to open up to me.
He laughs. "Your funny Hayl's? I don't recall telling a joke.
"Look it 99% says that they are disappointed in me as a son, don't need to be reminded." My heart breaks, I know his parents were well they were are how they were but I doubt they ever saw Harry as a failure or disappointment. "Harry no, don't say that please" He slowly gets up.
"It's the truth Hayl's" he leaves the room. I contemplate to follow him up stairs but maybe I should let him be.



"Harry can I come in?" I knock on my bedroom door. No response, I open the door but his not in here. I try the backyard nothing. Then I try my painting studio I see him sitting on a chair glistening as he is playing the guitar looking out the window, it is like looking at a vision of heaven.

I take a seat on my desk chair. "Will you paint for me?" He notices me and continues to play. I get out all appropriate things and start to paint straight on the blank canvas. I had no idea he could play the guitar. He is a man of many talents. It sounds beautiful whatever chords he is playing, he then starts to sing a song I've never heard before.

If we could only have this life
For one more day
If we could only turn back time

His voice is beautiful.

You know I’ll be
Your life
Your voice
Your reason to be
My love
My heart

I have never heard this song before,don't tell me he wrote it? Like I said a man of many talents.

Is breathing for this
Moment
In time
I’ll find the words to say
Before you leave me today


Flashing lights in my mind
Going back to the time
Playing games in the street
Kicking balls with my feet

As I paint slowly I smile and can't help but get emotional.

There’s a numb in my toes
Standing close to the edge

There’s a pile of my clothes
At the end of your bed

As I feel myself fall
Make a joke of it all

One of my tears have literally fallen on the canvas, lucky that area is dry.




"Can I see what you've done pretty girl." His words always make me blush, especially when I don't agree on his statement. I bring up my canvas to where he is sitting and reveal it to him. His eyes smile after a few seconds. http://www.timgagnon.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/01/oilclouds2.jpg

The clouds obviously represent heaven for where his parents are hopefully resting and learning about the mistakes they made regarding their son.

"It's beautiful just like you" he gets up and rests the guitar and kisses my cheek. He takes my hand, "let's get some rest yea" I nod and we head to my room.

Notes