|23 March||It's been a while. It took me six months to be able to hold a pen again. Six long and paintful months. But I finally did it. It still hurts, but the pain is just bearable enough for me to got down a few lines. The things we take for granted... Wow, that's deep. I think I better rest some more before I put ancient philosophers to shame.|
|4 April||Found his little collection of empty bottles this morning. I reacted badly. I know it's hard for him too, but God damn it, he should know better.|
With a small child in the house.
That's just irresponsible!
|23 May||How can two people who once loved each other so fully so profoundly, drift so far apart? My husband barely speaks to me anymore. He just sliters in and out of his study, obsessively working on one failed painting after another. He won't even sleep with me anymore. I can tell he's disgusted by me.|
The look he gave me the other day...
That pathetic, hurtful look...
A combination of shame, guilt and repulsion I have come to realize that I've become a monster in my husband's eyes.
It feels... like nothing a woman should ever experience.
Still, being the good wife that I am, I decided to realize my husband's fantasy.
If he thinks me a monster, I will sure as hellact the part.
|17 June||He's on about the damn rats again. I don't think I've even seen one, but that doesn't stop him from laying out traps all over the place. Claims he can hear them in the walls and that there must be hundreds of them.|
God, I fucking hope it's trie I hope the crawl out at night and eat you in your sleep, you cruel, selfobsessed, pathetic, drunk.
|19 July||Judging by the silence that has now fallen over the house, I can safely assume that he has finally passed out. Undoubtedly surrounded by empty bottles and tattered pieces of canvas that have become his preferred bedfellows. Every time it happens, I pray it will be the last. I pray fervently, passionately.|
Our Lord in Heaven, let him crack his head open and the rot spew out. Let him cut hiw wrist on the glass and the red bile flow. Let him choke on his own vomit, so that we may all find peace. For if you don't, one day, I will find the courage to walk down the steps and end him myself. You of all should know, it's now the lack of will that stays my hand.
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