**Diary Entry**
I never loved my wife, and I told her so many times. It wasnt her faultwe got on well enough.
My name is Thomas Whitmore. I live in York, where memories of hard times still linger in our hearts. I never loved my wife, Margaret, and Ive admitted it to her like a bitter truth I can barely stomach. She didnt deserve itnever made a scene, never scolded me. She was kind, attentive, practically a saint. Yet my heart remained cold, like the Thames in winter. There was no love, and it gnawed at me.
Every morning, I woke with the same thought: leave. I dreamed of finding a woman who set my soul on fire, who left me breathless. But fate played a cruel trick and turned everything upside down. Margaret was comfortable as an old armchair. She kept the house immaculate, turned heads wherever she went, and friends would ask, Where did you find her, you lucky devil? I didnt know why I deserved her loyalty. Just an ordinary man, nothing special, yet she loved me like I was her whole world. How?
Her love smothered me. Worse still was the thought that if I left, someone else would win her oversomeone more successful, handsome, wealthier, someone whod value what I couldnt. The mere idea of her in another mans arms filled me with blind rage. She was *mine*even if Id never loved her. That possessiveness was stronger than sense. But can you live an entire life beside someone who doesnt make your heart race? I thought I could. I was wrong. A storm was brewing inside me.
Ill tell her tomorrow, I decided before bed. Come morning, over breakfast, I mustered what little courage I had. Margaret, sit down. We need to talk, I said, meeting her calm gaze. Of course, darling. Whats wrong? she replied warmly. What if we divorced? If I left, lived apart She laughed as if Id told a joke. What strange thoughts! Is this some game? Listen, Im serious, I cut in. Very well, then. What of it? she asked, still smiling. Tell me honestlywould you find someone else if I left? She froze. Thomas, whats gotten into you? Why think such things? Worry tinged her voice. Because I dont love you. I never have, I blurted, like a blow.
Margaret paled. What? You cant mean that. I dont understand. I want to leave, but the thought of you with another man drives me mad, I admitted, my voice shaking. She fell silent, then sighed, wise and sad. I wont find anyone better, dont worry. Go. Ill be alone. Promise? slipped out before I could stop myself. Of course, she nodded, watching me. Waitbut where would I go? I hesitated. Youve nowhere to stay? she asked, surprised. No. Weve always been together. Seems Ill have to stick around, I muttered, feeling the ground vanish beneath me. Dont worry, Margaret said. After the divorce, well sell this place and buy two smaller ones. Really? I didnt expect you to help me. Why? I was stunned. Because I love you. When you love someone, you dont chain them down. Her words felt like judgement.
Months passed. We divorced. Then the rumours reached meMargaret had lied. Shed found anothertall, confident, with a disarming smile. The flat she inherited from her grandmother? She never considered sharing. I was left with nothingno home, no family, no faith in people. The betrayal cut deep, a knife in the back. To this day, I hear her voice: *Ill be alone.* A lie. Cold, calculated, and I fell for it, the fool.
How do I trust women now? I dont. My life with her was comfortable but empty. Now I havent even that. I sit in a rented room, staring at the wall, replaying that conversation. Her calm, her wordsall a mask. Friends say, Your fault, Thomas. What did you expect? Theyre right. I didnt love her, yet I wanted to keep her, like she was a thing. She walked away, left me drowning in the loneliness I feared. Maybe this is my penancefor the coldness, the selfishness, for not treasuring her heart. Now Im alone, and the silence hurts more than her leaving. Whos the bigger foolme or her? Only time will tell.
