Сумерки

           Myminddefinitelyhadtoomuchfreetime,anditwasgettingoutofcontrol.Ifluctuatedbetweenanticipationsointensethatitwasverynearlypain,andaninsidiousfearthatpickedatmyresolve.IhadtokeepremindingmyselfthatI’dmademychoice,andIwasn’tgoingbackonit.Ipulledhisnoteoutofmypocketmuchmoreoftenthannecessarytoabsorbthetwosmallwordshe’dwritten.Hewantsmetobesafe,Itoldmyselfagainandagain.Iwouldjustholdontothefaiththat,intheend,thatdesirewouldwinoutovertheothers.Andwhatwasmyotherchoice-tocuthimoutofmylife?Intolerable.Besides,sinceI’dcometoForks,itreallyseemedlikemylifewasabouthim.

           Butatinyvoiceinthebackofmymindworried,wonderingifitwouldhurtverymuch...ifitendedbadly.

           Iwasrelievedwhenitwaslateenoughtobeacceptableforbedtime.IknewIwasfartoostressedtosleep,soIdidsomethingI’dneverdonebefore.Ideliberatelytookunnecessarycoldmedicine-thekindthatknockedmeoutforagoodeighthours.Inormallywouldn’tcondonethattypeofbehaviorinmyself,buttomorrowwouldbecomplicatedenoughwithoutmebeingloopyfromsleepdeprivationontopofeverythingelse.WhileIwaitedforthedrugstokickin,Idriedmycleanhairtillitwasimpeccablystraight,andfussedoverwhatIwouldweartomorrow.Witheverythingreadyforthemorning,Ifinallylayinmybed.Ifelthyper;Icouldn’tstoptwitching.IgotupandrifledthroughmyshoeboxofCDsuntilIfoundacollectionofChopin’snocturnes.