Inspiration Negotiation

I rarely take a photograph unless something inspires me. It must be something about the place, the moment or people I am with, or perhaps it’s a memory I feel with inherent passion must be marked forever as a snapshot, capturing the essence of the pervading emotion at that second, be it awe, happiness, sorrow, whimsy, or even anger.
I always took my camera on our trips together - my beautiful, expensive camera which boasts pristine shots with the ability to be life-size if I so choose. The thing I have lately come to realize, though, is that I never took any pictures of us together, or even him alone for that matter. One photo remains as evidence that he and I ever existed, but I have my friend and HER camera to thank for that, - not mine. The only picture I ever took was of the sunrise in Florida early one morning mere hours after our first kiss.
But sadly, even then, he didn’t inspire me.
He never did.
I see their pictures together and the snapshots of their memories and I am strangely thankful that I have no such images with him. Maybe deep down I never found him a deserving subject for my magnificent lens to behold. Perhaps subconsciously I knew it was a short-lived adventure, and not one I would relish as I reminisced.
As always, the heart and soul speak in ways we sometimes don’t recognize until it’s far too late.
His presence never inspired my pen, either; ironically it was his absence which provoked my muse and brought forth lavish words on his behalf. While I have written numerous accounts based on certain notorious character, I never wrote anything for him as a way of expressing the depth of my feelings. He accidentally happened upon the one entry I wrote while we were together; much to my chagrin he neither comprehended nor appreciated it, choosing instead to mock my earnest admission of happiness.
I realize now that subconsciously my art is an intimate part of my soul and if a man does not arouse the artist in my spirit, then I shall know that he is nor ever will be the One for me.
I do not easily or quickly wish away a person or circumstance from my life - rather I chalk it up to experience and acknowledge that it creates who I become.
Still, I know with bone-deep certainty that if I was given the choice to return to April 19th, 2008 and do things differently, I wouldn’t consider it even for a millisecond.

I’d just ask for a Time Machine.