There are some things in life that may last longer than we hope to.
Some years from now, I can imagine myself coming across my box of film negatives and be truly surprised to see you in some of the photos. I assume I already have gotten rid of my photos of you in my computers by then, but since film has this uncanny ability to preserve images for posterity, I don’t think I could really take you completely out of the picture. I suppose I could cut your portions out from the negatives, but wait — who am I fooling? In every frame of every roll, it’s impossible not to see you there — if not through the bits and pieces of you here and there, at least in the memory of having you close moments before, during, and after each shot. To take those portions of you from the negative would be like pretending that you and I never happened.
My memories may fade with each step I take away from you, but these images burnt on film probably never will.