We're back to walking around and of course we run into your friend, the girl with pretty in her name. Don't get me wrong, its not that I don't like her, not at all. It's more so that the more I try to find ways to get to you, to be with you, the more people show up, and the more your attention gets focused elsewhere. 

Is it selfish of me to want things to go back to the way they were? You seem happy now, with your friends, content. And there I was all those months thinking that you'd bought your tickets for this just to come see me. Maybe I was just a pastime for you? Or maybe you never really meant anything you'd said. Either way, looking at you now, at your smile as you walk alongside your friends and I trail behind, somehow makes the butterflies in my stomach reappear. Will you always have that effect on me?

We walk into a big room, but with the amount of people that are in the room it seems almost small. Somehow we all manage to find seats, and as the message begins I find myself wondering about you. It's like my mind only has one setting, and no matter what I do I can't seem to get it off the topic of you. I look over to see you sitting next to your friend with pretty in her name. Why are you allowed to sit by her, but not me? you seem so focused on the message, so I try my hardest to do the same. 

When the message ends we all disperse, but somehow you get lost in the crowd. For a second my heart starts beating at a million miles an hour. Could this be my chance to finally get you alone? To finally tell you what I've been dying to say for months now? But no, we find you sitting in a small group. Of course you'd take every chance you get to be a part of something, anything. Thats just who you are. We laugh and you wave to us. Your friend with the curly hair says we'll just wait for you, so thats what we do. 

We all walk about ten feet away from your small group, over by the boardwalk with the windows that overlook the city. Downtown KC is beautiful at this time of day, with the sun hanging just above the horizon and the cars buzzing down the street. It'd make for a perfect picture, and apparently your friend with pretty in her name thinks so too. I see her take her camera out of her bag and begin snapping pictures of the scenes around her. Your curly haired friend and her nearly boyfriend, the people walking past, the view through the window, even of me. I find it intriguing how people want to capture each moment, even the ones that have no relevancy to their lives. 

Do you remember when you told me we would spend these days together, you and I, nestled in a blanket together, with our music playing, just musing about our days, about our lives? That would be a moment worth capturing. 

I walk over to your friend taking the pictures and she snaps a quick picture of me. I laugh. She asks me if I'd like to use her camera, and of course I say yes. I take a few steps back from the window and peer through the lens at my masterpiece. The lighting, the cars, the people, the city, its all so beautiful. I snap the shot and return her camera, then I look back over at you. I put my fingers into a rectangle shape, and frame your profile with them. If I could have any snapshot of any moment, it'd be this one. 

Because even the beauty of the city doesn't compare to you.