15 June, 1963
It was his eyes that I noticed first. I heard him call it a 'boring brown'. That he would love any other colour except his own. But they lit up as he looked at me and just the same way, they dulled every time someone broke our eye contact. And that's when I knew, he was THE ONE.
The wedding was charming and a little gauche. I think the best words that I have ever uttered were, ‘I Do’. You know what they say. How did a middle-class divorcee do it? They thought it was my tight little skirt that worked my way up into his life. But that wasn't it. It was Love. We didn't need no diamond rings; I'd marry him with paper rings.
We build our dream house together. Looking back at it, it all seems so simple. Laying on the couch, dancing in the refrigerator lights, and how we were screaming in colour when the world was black and white. We had our share of troubles but as they say, all's well that ends well to end up with you. But only if I knew how little time we had. Time, curious time, it gave us no compasses or signs. Were there clues that we couldn’t, see?
27 November, 1963
They said it was because of me. The headlines that flooded the paper were insane. "There goes the maddest woman town this has ever seen", "who knew if she never showed up, what could've been", they said.
The doctor said the heart attack knocked you out, but why couldn't anyone see the pain the attached heart had to go through? Yes, they could see that you hit the brakes a little too soon, but why couldn't they see, when you were crying, I was too. When your heartbeat was on the high Line, mine was dropping too.
I had to drown myself in pools of champagne to get over the cries and bruises your demise let me with. For the world, my doing was either black or white. They couldn't see how hard I had to try to cope with the bleak world your dead heart left me with. The media twisted and turned my actions so brutally that I felt that I WILL become the maddest woman this town has ever seen. They said she loves the drama. NO DARLING, IT LOVES ME!
30 December, 1963
I gave up on our home. So many people dream of living in a home with a white picket fence. But this house is no longer my home, no matter how white the picket fence is.
50 years is a long time
Holiday House sat quietly on that beach
Free of women with madness,
And then it was bought by me
I close the journal and whisper, " Who knows if I never found this journal, what could've been. There goes the loudest woman this town has ever seen. I had a marvellous time ruinin' everything. A marvellous time. I had a marvellous time ruinin' everything.”
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