3 months ago…
‹3…2…1…‹ he smiled as he let go of my eyes. ‹Now you can open your eyes, my dear.›
I glanced in surprise, feeling like it was all unreal — how could such a perfect love find someone so imperfect as me? I stepped inside, my eyes roaming over each picture hanging on the walls. I kept walking as the candlelight flickered across the room, the flame curving with my motion, drawing me closer to examine every detail. I was so delighted to see the room he had been working on for weeks, hiding it away, not letting me in. My impatience was getting the best of me, and soon my worries began to creep in — afraid of the unknown, of the unpredictable…
Then I realized — it had all been handcrafted by him, every single picture, every little detail. So many memories, moments we had shared. I lingered over one, my fingers tracing it delicately.
I couldn't stop staring at a particular one — a photo we had taken while walking along the edge of a serene coastline where we often spent weekends. He loved nature — the coast, forests, hills, mountains… He always carried his camera — Canon EOS 5D Mark IV DSLR. To this day, I still have no idea how to pronounce it, but he had saved for months to buy it. Once he had it, he took it everywhere — trips, camping, even parties. Every moment became a memory to treasure.
We often had deep conversations, and once I asked him, ‹What does life mean to you?› He paused, then smiled gently: ‹A moment. A moment of existence. Every day — a new me, a new beginning, new memories to collect.› He was simple, just like that.
For me, life had always been a chase. A chase that never ends — success, work, relationships, responsibilities… Many things. Respect others, respect myself, give everything you can, be useful, be useful, be useful… We all want success, but sometimes I asked myself: are all the sacrifices worth it? Would anyone care if I failed? Yes. There is one who would care — you…
He patted my shoulder as I drifted in thought. ‹What are you thinking about?› he asked, noticing my gaze. ‹It's mesmerizing… I can't believe you printed each photo separately, arranged them, noted the dates…› He had explained every photo, sharing his joy and fulfillment, but one note caught my attention — elegantly handwritten, barely understandable, under a picture from a recent trip.
It was by a lake we had found on a scorching weekend getaway. After hours in the city heat, we drove two hours and discovered a hidden paradise. We swam in the cold water, enjoyed the wilderness. He always turned ordinary days into unforgettable memories.
I was lost in thought while he photographed me, my back turned to him, admiring pine trees reaching into the soft blue sky, wild berries hidden in the shadows. A place where dreams could live, far from reality, far from the past. ‹Just a moment to be lived, a beauty to believe,› he often said.
The note below the photo was odd — only a date, no words. I knew how he cherished every moment, so it felt incomplete. Then he called my name. His voice melted my doubts, carrying them away. I smiled, not questioning it, thinking it was nothing. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I should have listened to my intuition.
He smiled back, proud of his work. But then I noticed it — a flicker in his eyes as he glanced at that same photo. His smile faded, almost a mask disappearing. He didn't linger, avoiding any awkwardness. Instead, he suggested coffee and casual conversation, talking about memories, dreams, and wishes as we always did.
We headed back, leaving the room filled with our shared moments. Only if that had been the last time I was ever there with him… Only if I had trusted my doubts and my intuition, maybe I would have noticed that he hadn't been entirely honest about that day…