Pictures

My cousin posted an old picture of me on Facebook. From when I was fifteen. Back when we were the best of friends, closer than close, going through all things together.

I remember the exact day this photo was taken. I remember because of the shirt I am wearing.

The picture gave me the chills. I haven't thought about that particular night in a long time. Even if I have, it has been random, fleeting moments, and mostly the aftereffects of that night. It was like peering down into a rabbit hole. Going back in time and watching myself get ready to go out that night. The anticipation, the naivety, the pure, innocence that I still had. The details, like my shirt. The county fair. Shaking his hand.

I keep thinking about pictures. Memories. Pivotal moments in your life, where you veer off the track and take a new road, oblivious to what lies ahead.

I made the decisions. It was my choice. I can't blame anyone else. The path of my life took a strange, nasty turn that very night. In the photo I was still clueless. I was still an idealist. I was still clean.