“Why did I let her go?”, a voice whispered in my mind when I received my film scans on an unusually quiet Friday night. I watched as the images slowly populated my screen, producing a wicked cocktail of emotions that felt all too familiar, with my only source of comfort being Wesley Shultz’s raw, bare voice. As I lingered on every single image, pausing to examine each contour and imperfection, my heart sank. I started texting not one, but three people to lament my loss. Their empathy was of no consolation. Clichéd words of support like “She’ll come back to you” and “There are plenty fish in the sea” of scarce, and ultimately empty, comfort.
Author name: Jon YK Lee
Photography enthusiast based in Singapore