There's nothing left to say

- But you'd be moving to Paris for yourself, right? I mean, don't move for me.
- Why would I move to Paris if it wasn't for you?
- I'm just saying I don't want you to uproot your life and expect anything.
- I am such an idiot!

- What the fuck?
- I'm running around town in a beret, buying your greasy food... and you don't even care if I'm in your life!
- Would you calm down?

- No! I'm so tired of calming down!

- Look, I have to be in a relationship... where if I have to go to Paris, I have to go to Paris.
- Fine, go to Paris. Then what happens to us next year... when you decide you just have to go to Brazil?
- This isn't about us! This is about work!
- This isn't about work. This is about us getting closer... and you getting so freaked out... that you have to put an ocean between us.
- I don't want to talk about this anymore.
- Why is it so hard for you to factor me into your life in any real way?
- I guess old habits die hard.
- Maybe I can't do this anymore.
- I understand.
- I bet you do. You said you loved me.
- I do.
- Then why does it hurt so fucking much?

On the way home I was furious. Not with Big, with myself. I was the real sadist. He might be the one with the whip, but I was the one who tied myself up. Tied myself to a man who was terrified of being tied down.

 I went to bed at 1:00. I was still wide-awake at 2:30.
There were no words left. We'd said them all.
After we made love, I knew it was over. Did I ever really love Big or was I addicted to the pain? The exquisite pain of wanting someone so unattainable.

- What are you doing over there?
- Go to Paris. I'm not gonna come. Let's not pretend we're something we're not. It's okay.
- Come to bed.
I wanted to go to him, but I felt like I was tied to the chair. Some part of me was holding me back, knowing I had gone too far. Reached my limit. And just like that, I had untied myself from Mr. Big. I was free. But there was nothing exquisite about it.