Daisy Fields

by Maki Matsui

“Why do I take pictures?” I said. “You mean, other than for money?” “Yeah. These ones.” She jerked up her chin toward her ceiling gallery. “The real ones.” I gave it a thought. “I love that a moment of reality can be an aesthetic object.”

“Your photographs. They tell me everything about you.”

“I just can’t wait till you fall for me. You will, too. Boys chase after pretty girls, but men go for the really interesting ones. I’ll be patient.”

Sometimes, when you can’t move on for your own sake, you can still find a way to do it for someone else.

Restless joy fills you, but contentment seems infinitely far out of reach.

“There’s no ‘space’ when you fall in love with someone.”

To lose myself in this, in our love, for the rest of my days—that was the only freedom I could imagine.

Butterflies can touch you, but you can’t touch them. That’s what I was always taught. Don’t chase them, don’t catch them. If you catch one, let it go. If it comes to you, be still.

“It’s so easy for me to love you,” I finally said, “but loving you is very hard on me.”