Lately I have moments that I feel so alone. With no one to confide into, I want someone who'll listen, who will not judge and try to understand what I'm going through.
As of the moment somehow all my friends are busy and when I'm with them I'm left out. I want to confide in them but I know they won't understand and they wouldn't even care. Some of them would even call me overreacting or some other names but they wouldn't understand and I know that.
So as much as possible I keep to myself drown myself in reading 50 shades. And then it hits me what Anastasia Steele is going through in the first book, all her insecurities about Mrs. Robinson and Leila. Ugh I feel that too. That aching feeling I get when think about that person and him happy, them together. It FREAKING KILLS ME.
As I try to escape into reading 50 shades, I realize that it wasn't really an escape...It was too realize what I'm feeling. And that's why I was drawn to reading it a midst all the sex stuff.
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