Dear Diary: Day 2 (fiction from the attic)

The wonderful thing about marital problems is the sacred shroud of silence which protects those within them. You can talk to people about them, but sharing limited amounts of information is acceptable, even encouraged.  That was how I was able to conduct guilt free conversations letting close friends know things were not going well, without telling them just how bad they were. I never discussed his affairs or mine for that matter. As far as family and friends were concerned we were working on improving the marriage. This delusion was necessary for my sanity as well as the execution of my plan. Believe me, this was not my first course of action, I sincerely looked at all angles, but this seemed to be either the most logical or the most effective, I can’t remember which.

     Honestly I think he gave me the idea with his constant misinterpretations that I was reacting out of bitterness. Not to implicate him as an accomplice, unless one can be an accomplice in one’s own murder?


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