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Blue Is the Warmest Color. Julie MarohЧитать онлайн книгу.

Blue Is the Warmest Color - Julie Maroh


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feel lost, and I can’t talk about

       things as twisted as that with my

       friends—they’ll hate me.

      I have to forget this

      nonsense and stick

      with the people who

      love me.

      CLEM …

      Thomas

       is great.

      I know

      that he

      would

      do a

       lot for

      me. Why

      can’t I

       see that?

      CLEM … I GET

       THE FEELING YOU’RE

       AVOIDING ME, AND

       I’D JUST LIKE

       TO KNOW …

      I DIDN’T

       HAVE THE GUTS

      YESTERDAY, BUT …

       UH … I, I LI KE YOU

      A LOT, YOU KNOW,

      AND …

      I’m a girl,

      and girls

       date boys.

      20

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      CLEMENTINE?

      CLEMENTINE, SAY

      SOMETHING. ARE YOU

      OK?

      HEY, BABE, WE’VE BEEN

      TOGETHER FOR OVER SIX

      MONTHS … BUT IT’S NORMAL TO

      BE AFRAID … I WAS TOTALLY

      TERRIFIED THE FIRST TIME.

      YOU JUST NEED

       MORE TIME. PLEASE

       DON’T THINK THAT

       I’M IN A HURRY. YOU

       KNOW THAT YOU CAN

       TRUST ME.

      HEY …

       WHAT

       ARE YOU

       DOING?

      21

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      CLEMENTINE,

       WHAT’S GOTTEN INTO

       YOU?

      STOP!!! WHY ARE

      YOU LEAVING LIKE

      THAT?

      I HAVE NO IDEA

      WHAT I AM DOING

      HERE, THOMAS.

      I AM SO IN LOVE

      WITH YOU, YOU KNOW. I

      AM BEGGING YOU, PLEASE

      STAY. THERE ARE NO MORE

      TRAINS AT THIS HOUR.

      I’LL TAKE

       THE SUBWAY.

      22

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      CLEMENTINE?!

      MY MOTHER

      AND HER

      CHRONIC

      INSOMNIA …

      BUT… YOUR PAJAMA

      PARTY AT YOUR

      FRIEND’S HOUSE …

      AT 3:00 IN

       THE MORNING?!

       DO YOU REALIZE

       WHAT COULD HAVE

       HAPPENED TO YOU ?

       REALLY, YOU ARE SO

       IRRESPONSIBLE!

      AND WITH

      EVERYTHING

      THAT’S

      HAPPENING!

      GOOD NIGHT,

      MOM.

      WE GOT INTO A FIGHT.

      I WANTED TO COME HOME.

      23

image

      May 1st, 1995

      Dear Diary,

      24

image

      I’ve already told you about

      my disastrous evening

      with Thomas, but I still

      need to talk about it.

      I can’t stop

      thinking about

      what happened

      (and could have

      happened), and I

      like myself less

      and less.

      I didn’t even really want to

      go to his place and even less

      to sleep with him.

      But I’m going out with

      him—that’s what’s supposed

      to happen, isn’t it?

      I feel lost, alone, at the bottom

      of a pit. I don’t know what to do.

      I get the feeling that everything

      I do is unnatural.

      Against

      my nature.

      Why does

      life work for

      other people

      and not for

      me?

      LIFE DOES

      NOT WORK FOR

      EVERYONE ELSE,

      EITHER, MY DEAR

      HEART.

      25

image

      DINNER WILL BE

      READY IN A FEW MINUTES.

      YOU LIKE SPAGHETTI

      BOLOGNESE, DON’T YOU?

      YES,

       THANK YOU VERY

       MUCH. I’LL BE

       RIGHT THERE.

      THANKS …

      THANKS

      26

image

      YOU KNOW, I CAN LEAVE

      RIGHT AFTER WE EAT IF IT

      BOTHERS YOU IF I


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