Sunday, 27 July 2014

“But When You Photograph People In Black and White, You Photograph Their Souls!” - Ted Grant

My oscillating black-and-white thinking means that someone can either be my hero - I mean this in the literal sense; they will be everything to me, or they will be my reason for hating humanity. This happens at any given point in the day so you can understand how exhausting this can be for someone in my life, especially if I don't have a great handle on my emotions that day. My perception of someone can change so dramatically that it will give the both of us whiplash. Because of this, I have cut out most of the people in my life that have hurt me in one way or another. I can't bear to be near them or see them; most of the time I will leave the area to aid ending all contact. As you can imagine, this holds many problems in a vast number of areas. However, after a couple of years I will begin to romanticise them in my head, remembering 'the good times' and then I begin to think I made a horrible mistake in letting them go. I usually haven't made a mistake and, rationally, I know it was all for the best but my oddly wired brain has had time to convince itself that it was all my fault because I am a monster and they couldn't have possibly done anything differently.

I hold a special place in my heart for everyone who ever touched my life, whether our relationship ended amicably or rather less than. I remember all of the people I have hurt, most of the people who have hurt me and almost every positive influence, no matter how insignificant it may have seemed at the time.

The girl from college who gave me my nickname. 
The lady who acted as my first unofficial therapist; I'd tell her my troubles as she ironed in her kitchen.
The reunion between my first love and I after a week-long break-up.
The way an old friend smelled as a teenager; he held me while I sobbed.

Not one of these relationships ended on terms that would welcome a future association with one another but it will never take away the impact that each of these people and experiences had on my life.

I find it hard to be a friend.
To keep in touch.
To socialise.

I find it difficult to keep from putting you on a pedestal.
To see you as human, with flaws.
To take the pain.

It is hard for me to forgive.
To excuse.
To put you back on the pedestal.

But, I want to be better, I want to be whole.
I want to be your friend when you have nothing to offer, if you'll be mine when I have nothing to give.

One day it might not be all or nothing, black or white.
One day I might be comfortable with a little grey.