I did not like to be touched, but it was a strange dislike. I did not like to be touched because I craved it too much. I wanted to be held very tight so i would not break. Even now, when people lean down to touch me, or hug me, or put a hand on my shoulder, i hold my breath. I turn my face. I want to cry.
I hope I’m a good mom some day. Sometimes I randomly think about the future. Family and all. I had general plans and they fell threw so now I can’t fill in the details because there’s no point. But I hope to be a great mom and wife someday while doing what I love to do photography.
You didn’t love her! You just didn’t want to be alone. Or maybe, maybe she was good for your ego. Or, or maybe she made you feel better about your miserable life, but you didn’t love her, because you don’t destroy the person that you love!
And if a day goes by without my doing something related to photography, it’s as though I’ve neglected something essential to my existence, as though I had forgotten to wake up. I know that the accident of my being a photographer has made my life possible. - Richard Avedon - 1970