Dear Diary

Dear Diary…

My mind is troubled and my heart is deceitful for have I not taken a vow to honor and love this man of mine? Through sickness and in health and for better or worse? This certainly is for worse at this very moment I speak. He is no longer the man I married, instead he has turned into a monster with vicious claws clinging to me and watching over me like a hawk. Have I not the right to walk freely or am I a slave to his will? His distrust cuts through me like icy thorns, ‘tis but his jealous mind that has pushed me away from him. My mind is treacherous and I am no longer worthy of the trust he once bestowed me. I have crossed that line a long time ago. Infidelity is a sin and for that I am guilty, but of the cause I am not. He pushed me over the edge by not caring for me. His selfishness, arrogance and ignorance have consumed him. I care not which family name he bears, a true gentleman would treat a lady like a delicate flower that must be treated with love, tenderness, and devotion, that is the way a husband would – or should I say should treat his wife. A painting of me feeds his narcissistic desire; I am but a pleasure to his eye, nothing more than a trophy. I am but a vessel to which the inner core is insignificant. In love and life I am less than nothing – a nobody, unworthy of his respect. Thus, his own name he holds more dear than the name of his wife! He cares not of love and of me, hence pursued and found outside these clinging walls.

O Duke, It is but thy name you cherish and protect - into this equation I fit not, and never did – you have ruined my life, taken away my future the moment you spoke the words ‘I do’. Your name to me has a foul taste and the word will not be formed as were it a threat to my very existence. O heaven had I not only felt obliged to accept your proposal to secure my family and now I am trapped in this oppressing cage of yours.

He says it not but I know that he is not fulfilled, ‘tis out of pure vanity that he keeps up this charade, his reputation must remain untarnished. I would rather die than keep up this pretense. I know now, death will set me free – that is the only way out of my miserable imprisoned life. O let my life slip away with the break of dawn and free me of this jealous husband. He treats me like I am scum, and his envision of me is appallingly cold. I will fulfill his prophecy, and act out his haunted nightmares of adultery. Not to his satisfaction but to that of my own. Let the last breath I am going to draw – for he will kill me, of that I am sure – be filled with pleasures which for so long has been me denied. Let me once again taste how it feels to be a free woman and then in peace I can die. I have many suitors who would me be wed, alas I am not a free woman. I feel no guilt for what I have done and am about to do, nor will I regret it for it is clear to me that I must pursue happiness and bliss elsewhere for ‘tis nowhere to be found in this heartless place. God, forgive me for the betrayal I am about to commit and relieve me from my righteous sins. I bid thee farewell dear diary, as this will be the last time I pour out my heart to you my dearest friend. Forever hold thy tongue and stay true to me this one last time.

Yours truly

The Duchess