my man from germany

I met a man from Germany who had come here to photograph birds, trash and doors.
He spoke perfect English and me, an English girl, well he loved me.
I showed him around and took him to all of the most aesthetically pleasing places I knew.
He wasn't interested in the places though.
He simply wanted to photograph everyday life and candid moments.
The langweilige wunder, and me.
He shot and he shot and he shot.
Me holding an ice-cream.
Me on the sidewalk.
Me admiring shop window displays.
Me in the bath.
Me playing my piano.

One day, when he'd gone out photographing on his own, I was home alone.
I took to exploring his albums one by one.
He had so many, of course.
He knew how to capture so much in one frame.
I looked at dozens of strangers that afternoon and felt an overwhelming sense of intimacy with them, whilst not knowing a single thing about them, their name, their occupation... anything.
It was pure magic.
Then tucked away was a final album I may have missed.
A beautiful velvet cover and it was full to the brim of photos of... me.
With dates stamped upon the back of each and everyone,
and the final page was blank with a hole for a box.
Written underneath; 'until forever'.
As I finished reading, my man from Germany walked through the door - a smile upon his face.
A box in hand.
He got down on one knee, opened the box.
For my eyes to be met with the most beautiful ring I had ever seen.
More beautiful than the strangers captured in them and almost as he was reading my thoughts, he said "not as beautiful as you, but will it do?" and I replied, "yes."