That Dude

I had a tan from being out in the sun so much that summer.

My girlfriend and I had recently broken up but we were still in close contact.

We had been hanging out in Prospect Park, which was in between her apartment in Midwood and my apartment in Prospect Heights.

We stopped on Coney Island Avenue and took some pictures.

I still felt very protective of her and I spent time with her.

I don't recall why I stood as I did in this photo, with my arms crossed.

I don't remember the reason for the expression on my face or what, if anything, it meant.

One of my current friends said that I looked like a tough guy in this photo.

But I wasn't the kind of person who tried to project such an image.

I wasn't aggressive and often I kept my thoughts to myself even when I was strongly and justifiably annoyed about something.

I wasn't a fighter and I was physically defensive only when provoked with no other choice.

Even if sometimes I felt angry, that someone deserved to have their words and actions halted by force, I didn't act on such feelings.

I was actually a nice guy, usually being considerate and putting others before myself (too much).

However, I did exercise regularly, riding all over the city on my bicycle and swimming dozens to a hundred laps in a pool whenever I could.

I loved the outdoors.

I was focused on my career, involving my job at a publishing company and my subsequently working as a full-time freelance photographer.

I almost always had a camera with me, capturing on film anything of interest in the city in which I had been living as a permanent resident for only four years.

I also tried to take images of personal places and times that would be part of the story of my own life.

This fleeting moment is from that time long ago, when I was that dude.