From Cafe Writing's May-June Project:

Option Three: Can You Picture That?

Use one of the following photos to inspire an entry in any form - fiction, essay, poetry. Please copy the photo to your own server if you want to include it in your post.

Photo used: "Computing in a Coffee Shop" by Quavondo Nguyen.

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Picture Perfect

He insists that I am beautiful, but I have a 3-inch blubber around my waist spilling over the button of my jeans--what people call "muffin top"--whenever I sit. Friends say that they can't see it, but I feel so self-conscious. I need to get around to working out at the gym again, but my gym membership expired like 2 years ago. Sadly, working in the corporate world keeps me busy, but I love every minute of it. I'm so sick of the glass ceiling effect that we have here in America. Women are business professionals, too, and we're damn good at it.

I don't believe in love, yet I love him more than a best friend. He was able to convince me that anything is possible even if one was badly burnt from a previous love. What I love about him is his sincerity and kindness. He means every word and takes care that every action punctuates the one before it or magnify its effect.

He insists that I am beautiful. And although I like my body on some days, I'm not supermodel perfect. I can accept "pretty", but "beautiful"? That word carves out a golden-haired Greek goddess or a Victoria Secret supermodel glazed on the cover of magazines in my head. I am so camera-shy that sometimes I feel that the photographer is shooting me naked—-with me being caught like a deer in the headlights.

I was overwhelmingly shocked and speechless one day at the coffee shop when he threw down a photo album on the table and showed me all of the photos he took of me--and us--since we've been dating.

"It was supposed to be a surprise, Jennie," he said. "I wanted to give it to you on our first anniversary, but I've been so worried that you haven't been taking good care of yourself lately since you've been so busy. I just want you to know that I love you, and I'm always worried about you... And I miss you."

Tears welled up in my eyes. He's right. Sometimes I bury myself in work so much that I neglect to take care of myself and end up in a mess. And what's worst, I've been a terrible girlfriend since I cancelled the past five dates. "I know, I know, I'm sorry," I whispered.

He scooted his chair closer to me and pulled me towards him and held me tight, showering me with kisses on my forehead and cheeks. He then lifted my chin and dabbed my eyes with a napkin from the table. "You're beautiful," he said.

"No, I'm not. I'm such a mess. What I'm wearing right now isn't exactly date-like or flattering."

He shook his head and kissed me with such passion that I thought my lips were on fire. "God, I missed that," he sighed.

Smiling, I was about to lean in for another kiss when he snapped a photo of me. I blinked, rubbing my eyes. "Jaaake!!"

"Sorry," he laughed. "Should've warned you first, but then again, that would've ruined my chance of snapping the most beautiful picture of the most beautiful girl ever!"

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It's been four years since that day in the coffee shop, but every night before bed, I still look at the photo album he gave me. Every photo was a candid work of art, an expression of his love for me. It's like a collage-scrapbook-journal of everything we did together. Every day, I thank God that I had given love a chance and that there was someone who loved me for being beautiful to his eyes alone. I miss him terribly, but I know that he is waiting patiently for me in Heaven.