**Diary Entry – 11th October 2023**
James slumped in his armchair, staring blankly at the floor. His head throbbed from the shouting match, and the anger still simmered in his chest. He felt lost, wounded. He’d come home late, exhausted after another gruelling day at the office—report deadlines, endless stress, his mind drowning in it all. Then he saw the flat in disarray, and that was it. His patience snapped.
*”Emily, why can’t you just tidy up after yourself?”* he’d shouted, unable to hold back. *”Is it really that hard?”*
His voice echoed, and immediately, the air between them turned thick. Emily replied coldly, almost indifferently, but James caught the shine of tears in her eyes. He wanted to soften, to take it back, but the words lodged in his throat. Instead, he kept yelling, unloading weeks of pent-up frustration.
Emily sat on the edge of the bed, eyes red, heart pounding like it wanted to break free. Her fists clenched as fury surged through her, drowning out everything else. Just yesterday, she’d been happy. Now? Another pointless row that seemed to trample every hope she’d had left.
*”Why?”* she whispered to herself, dizzy with emotion. *”Why do men think we exist to wait on them?”*
Every day, the same thing—her boyfriend expected her to handle everything for him. And when she dared say she was tired too, that she needed care as well? Predictable. Shouting. Accusations. Cruel words.
Her gaze fell on the pile of laundry she’d meant to wash that morning. Didn’t matter now. James’s voice still rang in her ears: *”Got nothing better to do?” “Typical—forgot about me again.”* Same phrases, like clockwork. But today, they tasted especially bitter.
*”I shouldn’t have to justify myself,”* Emily muttered, glaring at her reflection. She looked worn, but her eyes burned with resolve. *”I work just as hard as he does. My money is mine!”*
She remembered the dress she’d bought last week—something lovely, something just for her. That joy lasted all of five minutes. The moment James found out she’d spent her own cash, the lecture began. *”Selfish! It’s always about you!”* The words still stung like salt in a wound.
What hurt most was his refusal to see her side. All he cared about was his own convenience. His messes scattered everywhere, yet somehow, cleaning them fell to her. One small thing after another, chipping away at what they had.
*”Enough,”* she said aloud, shaking her head. *”I deserve better. I’m not some servant. I want my own life—not to live by someone else’s rules.”*
She stood, walking to the window. Decision made. No more putting up with this. Time to take back her freedom, her choices.
*”Tomorrow,”* Emily promised herself. *”Tomorrow, I’ll tell him everything. Let him learn to manage on his own. Let him see how it feels.”*
That night, sleep wouldn’t come. But for the first time in ages, her thoughts weren’t tangled in doubt. She imagined a new start—going where she pleased, buying what she liked, no guilt, no apologies. Hard as the talk would be, beneath it all, there was lightness.
She woke before the alarm. Her eyes landed on the stack of ironed shirts she’d done yesterday. *”Last time,”* she thought, tucking them away. Today began a new chapter. A difficult road, maybe, but one that would lead her where she belonged—to someone who’d love her as she was.
*Lesson learned: You can’t pour from an empty cup. And no one has the right to demand you try.*
