There were days I longed to have a moment to myself, just to think things through. I never did get that moment. I never did get a chance to process it all. I never had the time to wade through everything that happened, to analyze, categorize and accept, then to file it away in an orderly fashion into my expanding mind. To incorporate and internalize all the new experiences and events into my system and form a new, improved version of myself - maybe one that would have been better equipped to deal with my wonderful new and complicated life.
I had misjudged how my inexperience would manifest itself in the novel world of saturated color that Christian introduced me to. It's evident to me now that I couldn't think clearly enough to make reasonable, rational decisions. I was barely 22 and so very sheltered. The baby was the ultimate excuse I needed to sabotage something I never truly believed existed. The sad thing is that he really did love me.
Suddenly I feel winded, my insides rolling like a tiny boat on a stormy sea. Breaking free from our embrace I stumble to the bathroom. I reach the toilet just in time and make a spectacular show of throwing up. I can feel Christian behind me, holding my hair off my face, and the irony isn't lost on me.
This is how it all started...
