Photograph

It is funny isn’t it. Before you know a person. A photo is just a photo. It is just something you scroll by on some social networking site. Then when you meet that person or become friends with that person,  you see that photo in a different way. And then you get to know the person. And with every little thing you get to know about them, you percieve the photo in a different way. Like you no longer see it as a photo. Now you see the imperfections and the flaws. You see the scar below their eye and remember them telling you, so enthusiastically, the tale of their dog jumping at them exitedly the first day they got him home. You see their photo smile and remember their actual smile. The smile you’d do anything to keep on their face. You see them more than just the total of their parts. There is something more now. Just a bit more. Then somehow, someday,  you may not be that close to them anymore. And you lose this,  beautiful,  beautiful feeling,  of knowing them. You still see the same things,  but you also see it fading. You see them fading. And now, again,  it is just a photo. You start forgetting the way they raise their eyebrows and the way their mouth curls as they laugh. And that is so sad a thing, I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. I think that is what hurts me the most , when I lose contact with a person. Seeing their photo, and seeing just an empty face. Just another person,  with their own life. Not the person who’s life intersected yours.

But then again,  I guess,  not everyone thinks so much about a single photograph. Maybe,  it is just me,  overthinking

#midnightmusings1