Portrait

She was his model. Posing in all types of fashion and settings. Holding a gown comfortably to irrevocably evoke her naked feminine beauty. Dressing elegantly to pose with the bokeh of the background. Laughing candidly in the setting of a scene. He took a picture of her. He often took pictures of her. Sometimes editing afterwards. Often never looking to as he loved her natural beauty, but on occasion. She looked like a model, on a magazine, on tv, in a movie. Natural and beautiful in the raw and detailed format. She was rare, beautiful in the attention, but at times shy enough to not ask for it. As the sounds of a click revealed a photo.

She was smiling, her hair moving as if spinning. A shoulder facing and a portion clandestine. Her hands elegantly and playfully leaning, one in front the other behind.

"Do you ever let go of something you hold close?"

"Why would you want to do that?"

"There was a time when I used to hold on to everything because of the memory that was attached to it. The person, the place, the time. At some point, I wanted to let go."

The moment I realized I couldn’t get it back, my heart sank. No matter how hard I tried, there was no solution, I could find a way to retrieve it back. Fear of facing the idea of losing it forever. But right then and there something began changing. I started to let go, removing the things that I was carrying onto the floor. Then I felt free, and it became easier to walk, I had so many new things to look forward to. But deep down I still try to hold something, that one thing that made me remember losing so much. Because the less I had, the stronger it was, and the more it meant. Before becoming just a memory that may return.

Because as her father said, if something ever touched the heart, then, it really, never parts.

"I kept the things that I loved", her hands were holding on to the necklace she was wearing. She lost that necklace sometime later in the story. Normally she rarely takes it off, but the one time she did, it was stolen.