Пятьдесят оттенков серого

           HeknewIwouldneeddistancefromhim.

           Ilaunchmyselfstifflyinthatdirection,consciousthatChristianmayfollowme.Itisstilldarkinthebedroom,dawnonlyawhisperintheskyline.Iclimbawkwardlyintobed,carefulnottositonmyachingandtenderbackside.Ikeepthebathrobeon,wrappingitaroundme,andcurlupandreallyletgo—sobbinghardintomypillow.

           WhatwasIthinking?WhydidIlethimdothattome?Iwantedthedark,toexplorehowbaditcouldbe—butit’stoodarkforme.Icannotdothis.Yet,thisiswhathedoes;thisishowhegetshiskicks.

           Whatamonumentalwake-upcall.Andtobefairtohim,hewarnedmeandwarnedme,timeandagain.He’snotnormal.HehasneedsthatIcannotfulfill.Irealizethatnow.Idon’twanthimtohitmelikethatagain,ever.Ithinkofthecoupleoftimeshehashitme,andhoweasyhewasonmebycomparison.Isthatenoughforhim?Isobharderintothepillow.Iamgoingtolosehim.Hewon’twanttobewithmeifIcan’tgivehimthis.Why,why,whyhaveIfalleninlovewithFiftyShades?Why?Whycan’tIloveJosé,orPaulClayton,orsomeonelikeme?

           Oh,hisdistraughtlookasIleft.Iwassocruel,shockedbythesavagery…willheforgiveme…willIforgivehim?Mythoughtsareallhaywireandjumbled,echoingandbouncingofftheinsideofmyskull.Mysubconsciousisshakingherheadsadly,andmyinnergoddessisnowheretobeseen.Oh,thisisadarkmorningofthesoulforme.I’msoalone.Iwantmymom.