Not to Regret

When I was depressed about work, my boyfriend was worried about me

and flew to Tokyo to see me. 

While he was staying in Tokyo, he took a lot of pictures on his new camera. 

When we came back home from out side that night, he was still taking photos of me. 

I had to think about work for the next day and was so stressed with it that 

I snapped at him and said in a fed-up tone, 

"That's enough. Stop taking my picture." 

Then, I went to bed before him.

After a few months, he passed away and his sister gave some of his stuff. 

I found a picture of my sleeping face among them. 

It was taken at my apartment that night. 

I was at a loss for words.


Since then, I still hesitate to have my picture taken because
I sometimes feel like that the person who takes my picture may soon be gone.

I'll write about the rest of this story next time or someday.

Well... This is not my story, but a true story.