The Photo Album.

      Sighing, I looked at the last book on the shelf. Why did this have to
hurt so much? It wasn't as if he was dead, or that he'd even left me. We were
still together, as much in love as always, and had even more amazing adventures
to look forward to, but, moving home....it hurt, and I was having to do it
without him, as he was with his desperately ill Ma in our old home town.

      That's what the move was for, of course, so we could be with his parents
now, while they needed the extra support from him and his brother. But.... it
still left me alone to cope with the move. Don't get me wrong, I love his parents,
and his brother, but .... just at the moment, he has no time for me.

      Muttering to myself about my being selfish, I pick up that last book, and
open the cover. Its a photo album from when we first started dating. So long ago
now, and yet so easy to remember. Looking at the photo's, I felt that familliar
rush of love and longing bathe me in a bitter sweet wash of remembered pleasure
and pain.

     The first one was my first day at that school, how my diminutive frame had
drawn the bullies like a magnet draws iron filings, then there was this beautiful,
raven haired stranger, coming in to share the beating, taking some of the punches
and kicks until another lad came running over with one of the staff, and they,
finally, made it stop.

     The second was the following weekend, Gerard and Mikey had asked me and their
friend Ray over to spend the day watching horror films, reading comics and eating
junk food. My first real taste of what home could be, my parents having split up
when I was little.

     Discovering that Mikey played bass, and Ray guitar, made me feel confident
enough to confess that I did too. When Mikey said that Gerard sang some, I joked
about us starting a group together, little did we know then what was to happen
in the future.

     Turning the page, I caught my breath, biting my lip, this was taken on our
first date. A crummy flick at a second rate picture house, followed by cheap pizza
at the local pizza parlour. All you can eat or some such crap, but we were young,
in love, and thought it the hight of romance. How simple life was back then.

     The next page revealed our first prom date, Me in my white suit, red rose
in the button hole, Gerard in his black one, with a white rose button hole. We
looked so .... happy, so lost in love, in each other in that snap. Poring over
the rest of the album, slowly, reminising, I was so lost in my reverie I never
heard the door open, or the exclamation as Gerard, arriving unexpectedly, found
me crying over our first book of memories.

     I never even realised he was there at all, until he scooped me into his arms,
murmuring comfort and cursing himself for being thoughtless. Confused, I said the
first thing that came to mind "What are you doing here? You're meant to be with
your parents and brother. Not all the way across three cities from them. Why are
you here?"

      Gerard, still nuzzling my ear, trying to comfort me, said "Mikey, bless him.
He said it wasn't fair to force you to do the move on your own. He was right, too,
wasn't he? You're damned upset by this move, and I was too selfish to see it for
myself. No, not me, I have to have my brother point out that you're far more sensitive
than I ever give you credit for, and pack me off over here to be with you. What
happens? I walk in and find you in tears. Damn me! Why couldn't I think of you for
a change? I love you.... but I'm never there for you when you need me, am I? "

      Smiling through my tears, I mutter that I upset myself looking through the
old pictures. Snaffling the book out of my hand, Gerard looks through the pictures
with me, stopping at the last one in this book. The last picture of our old lives,
the first of our new life together. Our wedding photo.