Once upon a nine to five, my manager decided it was time to send me on a crash course that covered the essential skills of Photoshop. Thanks to a number of debaucherous photographs that leaked online from a recent Film Festival, I was quickly introduced to the wonderful world of masking and airbrushing, turning those drunken red eyes into pretty much anything I wanted. The power to manipulate, minimize, diminish and even delete were all part of the brilliance that made up this wonderful program.
As I used my magic wand to improve the visible signs of intoxicated work colleagues, I started thinking about the useful ways in which we could apply these techniques to our own lives, especially to ex-relationships. Imagine what it would be like to erase all those painful memories of sadness and heartbreak and convert them into a more favourable format. Contrary to what new age philosophers want us to believe, we all have regrets; mortifying moments of insanity that we wish we could take back but without a Photoshop Plus for Life, it's not as easy as "edit delete". And what about those tragic instances when a mental image of a great love affair has been left so distorted, pixelated beyond repair? My lecturer would tell me to trash it but if you're anything like me, you'll exhaust every option until you've finally come to the perfect resolution.
BIG was in town which meant one thing...big trouble. It was Charlotte's fathers' 60th soiree so there were plenty of people for me to make meaningless banter with, anything to avoid contact with the dreaded ex. Just as I thought I had successfully dodged the silver bullet, our eyes locked from across the room. Before I could stop myself I could feel the uncomfortable "hello" escaping my lips. Enormous amounts of alcohol was needed in order to continue any kind of conversation. Despite having moved on after five years and being in a relationship with Mr. Incredible himself, I was hell bent at trying to tie up the loose ends of our tumultuous relationship. Why didn't he come back for me? Was I not good enough? Did he ever love me at all? Was it just a young fool's infatuation or was he really playing me all along?
True to form he left me hanging for another season. Drunk with delusion I reached out to Charlotte who has always been the voice of reason. She finally gave me the closure I had been looking for all along. "If he wanted to be with you, he would!" There it was in black and white. The irony of the situation was that in just a few short weeks, Charlotte would find herself in the same situation and I couldn't help but wonder whether she was able to practice what she so willingly preached.
It's one thing for Curtis to have broken Charlotte's heart the way he did but it was quite another for him to flaunt the new relationship right in front of her face, so when the opportunity presented itself last week at Jade, we slutted Charlotte up for the occasion. It was not long before her alter-ego made a cameo appearance. Charlotte who is usually the reserved one in the group, had a tendency of changing nationalities the minute she came into contact with Tequila, Jagermeister or Caramel Vodka, but tonight, she had to be one hundred percent herself especially if she wanted to get Curtis back. The minute he put his arm around her waist, Charlotte was back in that place and before she knew it, word vomit. All those pent-up feelings culminating from the past seven years were out in the open for all to see. The "wife" who witnessed the confession from a comfortable distance fled the scene of the crime shortly followed by Curtis who was left speechless at Charlotte's admission. Dazed and uncertain of what action to pursue next, I reminded Charlotte of some very valuable advice that a wise friend had once given me.
Love is a motherfucker especially when it brings out erratic acts of desperation fueled by the emotion of being hopelessly in love with unavailable men, and while it's difficult to edit these compromising situations, these experiences are all pieces of what makes us who we are. Although the idea of hitting "control x" to mask the memory of a former lover seems idealistic and we may even dream of photo-shopping the perfect ending to a less than perfect relationship, the truth is we're living in camera raw...flawed, hypersensitive and overexposed.
When it comes to previous relationships, are we lost without resolution or do we just need a little zoom to see the bigger picture?
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