When I was about twelve, I was extremely unhappy. I didn’t really make any friends because I never felt good so I never went anywhere and never met anyone. Actually, in 6th grade I completely gave up on public school and went to homeschooling.
Then I met Noelle who to this day is my best friend and we talk for hours just about every night. At the time, however, she was just my “depression buddy.” We had an unspoken sense that no matter how much people really wanted to no one understood what we were going through.
No one had the same problems at home that we did and no one saw the world from our eyes. So we spent a lot of our time as far away from home as we could get. Mostly we took walks.
That’s when my fascination with pictures really flourished. Noelle and I both had cameras and we took them with us everywhere we went. And, trust me we had WAY too many pictures, not that I’m complaining.
When my family and I moved from Jersey to Florida, I was completely devastated. I had no friends and the only friend that really understood what I was going through, the only person that ever saw me cry, she was gone. I no longer had anyone to take those walks or pictures with. It was kind of like waking up and not knowing where you are; unfamiliar, unwanted and terrifying.
So I uploaded all of those old pictures onto my computer. When I looked at them sometimes I would laugh, sometimes I would cry. But every time I open my camera software, it was (and still is) a flood of familiar memories that make it impossible for me to forget things like the time Noelle and I tried to split a twelve scoop ice cream dish at the ice cream parlor down by her house.
You see, some people believe that when someone snaps a photo of you, they take a little piece of your soul. I believe that when someone snaps a photo of you, you’re giving them a little piece of your heart. And ten years from now, that picture really will be worth a thousand words.
So I believe in taking pictures.
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