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The Photo Frame

The Photo Frame

5 mins
181


 The photo frame lay on the cold and hard marbled floor, its soul had seeped out of it and shattered in numerous shards right on that floor. My knees felt cold and numb as I bent down on that same floor to pick up that soulless photo frame. Could I fix this? Should I fix this?


I walked down the somber corridor, a daunting eerie silence wrapped itself around me as I held the sticking tapes and adhesive in my cold palms. The floor felt cold once again as I sat down and pulled the frame into my lap. What had made this floor so cold even in the summers? I cut a piece of the tape with my teeth and stuck it on the upper-right edge of the photograph when a wave of numbness crashed onto me. Was I trying to fix that thing in my lap or was I trying to fix the couple in that thing?


I stripped off another long piece of tape and stuck it on the lower right edge of the photo frame, wishing that it would also fix the cracks dwelling between that couple, hoping that it would also cover up those cracks of broken trust and lost love residing behind those happy faces in the picture, praying that it would also make the bad and bitter memories, harsh and paralyzing reality fade away at an instant from the lives of those happy people in the picture.


But, would a long piece of sticking tape be enough to put back the trust that once bound us together? Would it be able to repair the trust that had been broken on the day when I no longer recognized the love of my life? Was it enough to repair the trust that had been broken when you started loving me with the eyes of nothing but suspicion? Was it enough to repair the trust that had been broken when you started questioning every step that I took without you? Would it suffice for removing that blindfold of doubt and quandaries from your eyes? Who knows, perhaps this long piece of tape would be enough.


But, would a long piece of sticking tape be enough to put back the love that once filled our souls with warmth and made our heart leap with its every beat? Would it bring that love back to us that was lost on the day you questioned the love I had for you? Was it enough to rekindle the love that you had buried deep under the never-ending piles of dubiety and mistrust?

Who knows, perhaps this long piece of tape would be enough.


But, would a long piece of sticking tape be enough to restrain the respect that was wearing down between us with every passing day? Does it have the ability to form newfound respect in your mind for me when you walked away without sparing me a last glance? Does it have the power to erase that day when you had thrown the label of infidelity on the love that I had for you and lost all the respect that you ever had in my eyes? Who knows, perhaps this long piece of tape would be enough.


But, would a long piece of sticking tape be enough to revive the once happy and loving memories that we had created by moulding our souls into one and by intertwining our fates into one? Was it enough to wipe those wails and whines off my soul that you had imprinted on me with your doubts and incertitude? Would it suffice to help us get rid of those awful memories that we had created from those nights of shouting and justifying things that had eaten up our love as well as our happiness? Who knows, perhaps this long piece of tape would be enough.


But, would this long piece of sticking tape be enough to salvage us from the darkness of reality looming over us? Would it mend the loopholes existing between us, from which the love we once had amidst us kept leaking away into nothing but darkness? Was it enough to open a new door of a fresh start for us before we relinquish to the death of our once happy and perfect love? Was it actually enough to make the impending end of us go away and make the mirage of a happily ever after plausible between us? Who knows, perhaps this long piece of tape would be enough.


Putting the last strip of tape, I stared hard at the faces in that photo. I stared hard at us in that photo. I could still feel the love, trust, and respect we had for us in our eyes.


Everything about the photograph screamed love, trust, and respect to me which no longer existed between us. I placed the newly fixed photo frame onto the floor and withdrew my hand back when a shard pricked my finger. I glanced at the shards lying on the floor around the frame, and then glanced back at the droplets of blood covering my finger now. I felt another wave crashing onto me, but this time, it was the wave of harsh reality, of the truth that couldn't be denied or fixed with a strip of tape. The trickling of my blood brought me from the fantasy growing in my mind back to the reality standing right in front of me.


 Despite fixing the photo frame, the cracks were still evident, and along with it laid the undeniable reality of us. There was no new door open for us anymore, there was no adhesive available anymore that could fix us back to what we had been once. There was no fresh start anymore, it was just me and this cold, hard marble floor with the cracked photo frame of us.


"Whom had I been fooling all this while? " I mumbled, letting the coldness of the floor numb away whatever hope I had in me for us.


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