I wasn’t like this—drinking, crying, hating myself and everything that breathed around me.
Every time I try to dig myself out of this hole, something drags me back in.
I wanted to tell him about the million evil things he did to me internally, but it meant nothing if he never listened. He would put up this wall and shut me out as if I never existed. I despised him for that. For thinking I didn’t deserve his precious time.
He made me like this. He stopped being the man I met eight years ago. He stopped being…him—sweet, loyal, caring, attentive….
All the late nights and days of coming home smelling like another female’s perfume. And though he said that most of his clients were females and it was bound to rub off at some point, I wanted to believe that. I wanted to believe everything he said, but my heart knew different.
He tells me that I’m being paranoid and jealous, and maybe I was because there wasn’t any physical evidence, but I knew. I felt it. The deceit, the lies, the affairs…I felt them deep within my soul.
No amount of gifts, or clothes, or luxury trips made me forget that.
How was I to confront these feelings when he barely entertained me? When he was busy with clients, busy with work, busy being…busy?
I was nothing but a mere object—a medal he won to show off to his friends. I detest what I had become for him. I was so much more before this. But my love for this man is relentless. He is my rock, my sole provider, and the other piece of my heart. He completes me.
Maybe if I worked harder to love him, he would truly see that I was the only one meant for him. But this wasn’t a one-man show—we both had to come together to make this work.
It had to work. It must work.
Our anniversary would be up soon, and I think planning some time alone should definitely work.
And if all else fails…
I don’t even want to think about it.
Sacha’s journal prior to The Cabin. Read The Cabin now on Amazon. Available in Ebook and Paperback format. Select the photo below.
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