He liked taking photos.
He took photos of his friends.
He took photos of his favourite outfits.
He took photos of all his favourite objects.
I always wondered why he never took photos of me.
It took a while but now I’ve figured it out.
He took photos of all the things he loved.
The things he was afraid of losing.
And his camera roll was jam-packed full of photos.
But not a single photo of me?
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