Painful Perfect Picture

Glancing down at the picture resting between my palms
I cannot fathom the pain of my loss
having fallen so deep thinking my certainty was true,
then discovering my every choice had been wrong.
There you stand beside me, arms wrapped tightly
around my petite frame, your chin to my bare shoulder,
fingers playing amusingly with my dress,
one gently resting on the golden ring.
I believed for a while this treasure symbolized everything;
our future, our friendship, our love,
but perhaps it is so, I was naught but a playmate,
and you, my beloved, grew weary of this game.
A heaviness settles in my bosom
as I see your still face flashing a joyous smile,
long gone, long forgotten, though I know
only by you.
The image replays itself, such repetitive torture,
small white heels tapping slowly the narrow, red carpet,
nerves flying, incredible excitement,
to in reality be yours forever.
Regretfully I promised my life to your carelessness,
a commitment made from my heart without love returned
to last the dream I have long dreamt,
and now restlessness wakes me from reaching further more.
I do wonder as time does allow,
long hours wishing you would be remembering
as I am, holding you in my arms,
this time in a frame.