The first time I told Jeffrey I was in love with him I was 16, he was 23. He smiled and told me to wait until I was older.
He’s my best friend’s brother and I’d see him as often as if he were my own. He never treated me like a sister, though, nor I him, as a brother. We loved to flirt with one another and more than once I thought he would kiss me. But he waited.
On my eighteenth birthday he asked me to be his wife. I said “yes”.
A year later, I wish I had waited.
This week’s photo: © J Hardy Carroll
This may seem an odd story to go with this photo prompt. Part of the reason is because I ran out of words for the story I intended in the back story, then rewrite after rewrite, this is the story that emerged. The other part is personal and the picture reminded me of something from my own life. I don’t often add explanations and as I sit here now I am debating deleting it, but obviously I have chosen not to.