That day I stumbled upon a picture of yours. You were laughing. Your eyes crinkled with the effort, your face aglow with emotion. You looked so happy. I tried to figure out in my head what had made you laugh. I just couldn’t remember. I sat there lost in reverie. And then I saw your crooked tooth, the one that always made you embarrassed. You were forever trying to hide that, afraid of people making fun of your smile. You would hardly laugh. But you were with me and you weren’t scared of being judged, were you ?
Your imperfection looked an integral part of that picture. And it looked a precious part of you. I would never be able to separate your happy face from that. You had joked it won’t make a perfect picture. I agree today, love. Afterall there are no perfect pictures, only perfect memories.