i didn’t think you would want a snapshot of me in that moment. i didn’t think you’d want to have an image of me on your phone. i suppose you can always just delete it later, but you made the decision. you picked up your phone from the table, told me to not move, took a few pictures of me with my coffee and smiled at the image. what a small, warm moment.
you smiled at me, directly and indirectly. and then you sent the pictures to me and it was like i was getting a peek into how you see me. how you wanted to immortalize the common joy you saw me feel as i held my drink. you saw my passion and thought to keep it with you.