Photographs are simply frozen moments in time. They are still memories, telling
without words a story from the past. These are memories that seen in the future cause
thoughts of “what if”, “what could’ve happened,” or “what didn’t happen”. The tears
flow down while I sit here and attempt to describe this picture. It is probably the most
painful memory I have. It was taken by a sidewalk on a busy street in Miami Beach. I’m
hugging my boyfriend seductively, whom I had been dating in the picture about four
months. One of my legs is around him, and he is hugging me right back watching the
camera intensely. His handsome face is clearly seen while mine is halfway covered by
my hair. We are dressed for the occasion. I’m wearing a sexy skirt with a lingerie corset
and, as usual, high heels. He wears a polo style green and white striped shirt with
common blue jeans. The picture was taken last year on my birthday, November 16, 2003.
It was the celebration of my becoming legal; well legal enough to get charged for things.
It is really late at night though you can’t tell exactly, but I can. It’s easy to see the pitch
black sky throughout the background of the image. There are a few streetlights and what
appears to be the tail lights of two vehicles. My boyfriend and I are posing next to a
meter, which is clearly not working because it is covered by a red bag. There’s also a
blue trash can so tall that it reaches my bra line. Though the day was supposed to be a
celebration, you would never notice, due to the absence of chaos that is usually never
missed on a Saturday night on Washington Avenue. The picture looks almost like a
deserted environment except for the couple in the middle of it. The effect of the picture is
so powerful I can feel the sensations of that moment . It is as if I’m living the moment all
over again through this picture. I never kne...