I always felt there was something between the two of them, but I loved Irvin too much.
I loved him so deeply that even when it hurt, even when I was convinced something was going on, I still chose to believe him when he said there wasn’t.
I’d try harder to please him, cling to him, and exhaust every means to win his heart back.
Whenever anything happened between him and Julianne, I’d become skittish and terrified of losing him for good. And when he came back, I couldn’t help but ask him over and over if he truly loved me.
Even though I was afraid of pain, I once resorted to self–harm, hoping it would bring him back from Julianne’s side.
But in Irvin’s eyes, my fear and despair were nothing but hysterics.
Instead of pity, my actions only made him see me as a troublemaker. Not only did he not return, but his disdain for me grew, and he saw everything I did as just another tantrum.
The me in my old journal couldn’t figure out why he insisted there was nothing between him and Julianne while treating me so cruelly.
Now I understand.
Irvin did things only lovers would do with Julianne while claiming their innocence because he, didn’t want to admit it. He didn’t want the affair out in the open or to face a messy divorce.
On the other hand, he wanted to break me piece by piece and to drive me mad until I’d suffer an “accident“. Being widowed was much simpler for him.
Just like I thought, he wanted to have his cake and eat it too.
How pathetic that I once thought his denial meant he still loved me. I even doubted myself, wondering if I was truly the petty one who imagined things that weren’t there.
But now, I realized the truth.
There was a saying I found fitting. Instead of internalizing the pain and fearing themselves
but apart, people might as well direct their madness outward. They could blame anyone i
themselves.
