Fifty Shades of Grey

There is something beautiful about grey. Almost all my clothes are some shade of it. I love black and white photos, they seem mysterious and classic. But they aren’t really “black and white”, they are shades of grey, otherwise there would be no definition.

I have fallen in love. He is smart, kind, funny, amazing, and perfect for me in every way. We say things at the same time. We love the same things and love the same way.

He tells me that he sees the world in black and white, right and wrong. I see it in shades of grey. I see good and bad as well, in everything, but for me they can’t be separated, they run together like paint and create, not fifty, but thousands of shades of grey.

In my short time on this earth, I have learned more about life and myself with him than I ever did before I met him. He is so certain about who he is and how he is, that it makes me want to know who I am in order to more understand him.

Not only does he love me, but he encourages me, unintentionally, to be a better person. Because I know him so well, I can see things through his eyes and understand a whole different way to think and understand, if not the exact same way to be.

 

Title Borrowed From: Life in Boomer Lane

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2 responses

  1. And yet is not every shade of grey merely degrees of black and white? To each his own to decide how much of each. 😉 Good thoughts. I should like to talk to him sometime, we seem to think alike.

    • Thank you for your interest! 🙂 Yes, grey is degrees of black and white, but I just either haven’t got close enough to discern the two, or I really cant accept them as separated. There is good and bad in everything and every one after all..

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