 straight black hair. Look, he's cute. You know I can talk to her. Well, I went in to have my head combed by Deb, which I'd done many times. This visit occasioned the greatest sorrow to me that ever I knew in this world before at this point my marriage turned on emergency headlights. Our car accelerated down the hill, no brakes because while Deb Willett was combing my head, my wife comes up suddenly and did find me embracing the girl. My hand saw the suit quotas, my mane and her cunny, and in comes my wife. She sees it, she's struck mute. She's frozen. I mean, not like, you know, when you pick up a few things in the grocery store or like, pedal your bike, no, for rows, totally paralyzed. Then her voice finally comes to her and grew quite strange and out of order. Okay, so that night we bet I'm very tentative. And my wife says very little also, we couldn't sleep all night. And then at about two in the morning, she starts raging. She goes on and on. At last it appeared plainly what her trouble was, what she saw. But I'm full of anxiety because I don't know how much she saw. You know, my mind is in this rapid interplay between impression and fact. You know, but after her much crying and reproach, reproaching me for philandering, I did thus promise my love to her and for swear any hurt that I did to her. Until, at last, she seemed to be at ease again. So toward morning, very innocent. Okay, so the 26th, rows and up, but my mind is lightly troubled for the girlie, dad, but who I fear I have undone by this, my wife. She's telling me she will turn dad out of doors and then at dinner silent between my wife and me. I know, I mean, their friendship over. So all evening, I'm busy. My wife is full of trouble in her looks and so anonymous to bed. So about midnight, she wakes me and falls foul of me again. But I notice her rhetorical style is radically changing. Her language is blunt and sharp. And now she's reaffirming that she saw me hug and kiss the girlie, the latter I deny, the hugs I can twist. But not more of this. I don't know what she actually saw. So I'm awning up to some of the expressions, but at the same time, I am emphasizing that there was really no harm in it. You know, I'm coming up with this strategy on the fly, right? She at last was quiet and so asleep. And I am hoping that things blow over. 27. What then happened was this in the morning when I'm up, my mind hurt. I was troubled for the poor girlie, but I couldn't figure out how to get an opportunity to speak with her, which I needed to do. And so my wife toward bent time started to rame me, threaten me. So I wore two glasses of Chardonnay floors and adjusted her to the couch and I gently led her to sit and I lit a candle and I put on some quiet piano music and I tucked a small blanket around her feet. And then I might be made of my business to appease her all I could possibly. And by good words and fair promises, I did make her peaceful. She stared at the edge of the rug for a while and then we went to our bed. I've said that there are deer in the woods, but there is so much of quiet. It's not fair. October 28 1668. Next day, we rose with perfect good peace inside. I am freaking about the girlie, who I have no mind to part with. Look, I write her name on bathroom walls and truck stops. I learned sad and confused songs and I sing them in empty dive bars and try to catch her without my life seeing. And if I can find a way, I need to pass a note to to tell her what I haven't confessed to, you know, the main of the coming issue. She should never read a word about that. So this morning I flamed note as she passes me in the hallway. Later, she flings back at me and I am in agony. My desire is legible. Its edges clearly rendered 29th 30th. I'm not a certified forklift driver and I am driving this one without a license on a rocky piece of earth 31st. I vowed tomorrow to buy my wife a petticoat and some rich lace. 30th. I go downtown to the office noon to dinner and I'm home. I spy my wife eyeing my eyes looking into Deb's eyes, which I could not but do her charm. It's like an icicle in the brightest sun. An icicle in a state of sparkle and melt. And then I see the poor girlie drop of tear. She is indeed my sacrifice for Deb. So that night, my wife tells me of her desire of firing Deb. It must be. So therefore, though it cannot be grieved me, I must bring my mind to tolerate her leaving. Truth is, though it hurts, I think it'll be better. I mean, she should be gone for both my wife's peace and mine and some reasons of finance as well. It'd be best for me to do that. Her go listen. You know, I think it would be good if when you get married, you make an agreement with your partner that you have to get remarried every seven years so you can always be in like an active relationship to your choice. Although the no escape clause has a certain comfort for it. This is actually the day's writing of the fifth though it stands under the sixth. My mind is so troubled, so cluttered. It's no wonder that I fall into these mistakes in my journey. Seven. I want to say they're a wild animal in the city and we can use spikes, nets, tracks, poison, but let's concede they will inevitably nest under our roof. Eighth, Lord's Day. And at my chamber all morning, the girlie's still with us. I see her cowering in my back kitchen, her dark print dress lending into the wallpaper. Her back rounded her head bowed and turned away. This pains me. I love the girlie. No matter how much muscle I put into it, I cannot undream, unwant, unlove. November 9th. There are protocols, regulations for missing documents, long lost orphans, stolen property, but there are no boots for this kind of downpour. So today up and I again in despair. I fling another note today and in the note I advise her that I continue will continue to deny that ever I kissed her. Now I'm thinking you know maybe the main in the county thing. I'm rethinking the evidence. Maybe it never happened. You know it's kind of like a racing in my mind. I'm generally uncertain about everything at this moment. And by the way, as I'm thinking this, I know it sounds contradictory. I am simultaneously asking for God's pardoning me this act if it did happen, which I'm not completely sure it did. November 10th. Tomorrow, I shall bind my wife to the most fine cloth and let her wear black patches if she desires, which are much in fashion 11. First thing in the morning, my wife tells me about all the men that she herself reviews out of faithfulness to me where several she found very hot, which I did acknowledge and left. And at last, we're pretty good friends. So today, but after a half an hour of sleep, she wakes me frantic, a lurching clown in the red wing. She is in attack mode. There are no boots for this kind of downpour. It is quite a scene. I mean, I'm in tears myself. She's mad with raving. Though I wouldn't totally buy in the ratings. Who do I think I am? 13th. So first thing this morning, we called Daniel into my chamber and there did with tears in my eyes discharge her. But as I'm doing the bidding of my wife, something shifts in me. Suddenly, it hits me as possible if not probably. Dead is a cunning girlie, if not us. What? This misery is not my fault. I have been put under her spell. She's a witch. I've been seduced by her dark powers that I cannot understand. They existed some other realm of reason. We were both fighting and loving an idea simultaneously. Because this is how I felt as I fired the girlie 14. So that evening, I hear my wife Deb say that the girlie has found employment and she will be gone tomorrow morning. Good news. That's good news. But part of me is stunned. The truth is that I have a good mind to have the maiden head of this. But she'll be gone and I know not with her. 15th. Were you ever a bird flying into a glass window? This morning, I have a mighty urge to encounter, animate and engage with the girlie. So I'm wrapping up 40 suits in paper to give her as a farewell gift. But I hear my wife already going down to the kitchen and she comes back up. She says Deb is in the kitchen. Therefore, I cannot go in and then out of nowhere. My wife Casamine eye upon me. She calls me a dog and a rogue with a rotten heart. I wish it was rotten at this point. So I could be less emotional. Of course, I bore her approaches in a vast silence and in this silence, we both hear the coach leaving outside the window. I know Deb will it is gone. All is quiet. I'm to the office. My heart is sad. But I decide then and there I shall forever be a slave to my wife. She deserves it. Later in bed with more pleasure that night with my wife than I think in all the times of our marriage before I realize now I want ultimately to roost in a warmer, more stable environment. 17. The Lord's Day. So to the office to write down all this in my journal for six or seven days, my minds haven't been so instructed and shadowy as never to get the time nor the clarity to do it. Which you can tell by the mistakes I've made in the journal these days. But concerning Deb, I must confess I know now that I would be glad to find her though I fear it would be my ruin. My mind is drawn to an aftermath which hasn't occurred yet but must. 18. Early the next morning I go to Wettstone's Park, a place totally I'd never lived in. And I understand from overhearing my wife that Deb is working there for a doctor. So I look around, I cruise the district, maybe I'm hoping to see her in a window or passing by a shop. And then home to my wife. I'm taking her temperature, she seems pretty calm. So I am in mighty ease in my mind about my hopes to find Deb without the knowledge of my wife. No equation has ever been so perfectly designed. A pristine trying. 19th of November 1668. Lay long in bed talking with my wife. She'd be unwilling to let me go out alone for fear of my going to Deb, which I do passionately deny. But, God forgive me, as soon as I'm out, I coach directly to Somerset House to find out where the doctor's lodgings are. So I talked to some bike messenger and he tells me that he'll inquire about this little gentle woman, one Deb will it. And I send him to see how she's doing at last. I see the guy riding back and my heart is pounding. He tells me Deb says I may see her and he gives me her address. I completely lose control of the car. I am veering off the road. I am going to total it, which I don't care. I am code red. I know I must go to her this very night and so by foot it's by now it's dark. I go in my God. She comes to meet me. Her charm is like an icicle in the brightest sun, an icicle in a state of sparkle and melt. I want to say I wasn't looking snow, but it is coming now. So home and there I told my wife a fairy tale. She's distracted. She's hacking the new damask curtains that the upholster just delivered. I decide I'm going to buy her trim for her new vomit. But up to the office all morning my heart is filled with joy to think what a safe condition all my matters now stand between my life, my death and me. I am practically skipping home. I run upstairs to see the upholsters. They're busy, you know, at work hanging the graves, silken floor legs, grapes in my study, but I find my wife sitting sad in the dining room last night. She looks in my eyes and she names me false and mean. I know she knows that I was with death yesterday and my mind is racing. Was she following me? How does she know this? Nevertheless, I begin to deny it with all my heart and then I experience this radical change in my life in a desperate wish to forever discharge my heart of this witness. I did confess about yesterday's experience, which she doesn't exactly. She says she wants 400 pounds from me and then she'll walk away. But that's not good enough. She's going to make all the world know that I'm a liar and a rogue. But I'm not anticipating going public with her data is going to win her cohorts. Data can be fabricated and or discredited. Then I see it from a wide shot. I wonder if perhaps this entire episode binds us tighter in the bunting of our original promise. So at last I swore with my hand on the Bible, never to see death as long as I live. Wow. I know that she takes the hand on the Bible thing very seriously. She comes down on a dime, stops threatening me and there beyond my hopes she looks at peace. This is the worst injury I have ever sustained on the field. So what happens next even surprises me in desperation and in earnest. I fold my knees in my chamber and begin to pray to God and ask for his help. I am a desperate beginner. I'm a mess on the floor and I am giving myself up. This day the upholster has finished the hanging in my best chamber but my heart sorrow is so great. I can't enjoy how great my house is starting to look with the redo. 20 seconds. This morning to white hole by water my friend Howie is with me. He's supposed to go with me everywhere until my wife trusts me again. I've lived with this because I've resolved before God never to do her wrong again. But when I come home I find my wife on her bed in a horrible rage a friend is pulling my hair. At last it comes to this if I would she says if I would write to dad and call her a whore in my own hand and tell her I hate her but then I see my friend that Howie won't keep upon me. So I did write the letter with the whore with no one. Howie's going to wipe that heart out. So this letter please my wife she gives it to Howie to carry to the girly you know at the doctor's office. So when Howard left I fell upon my knees in prayer calling for the help of my doctor and so I vowed to pray every night from now on hoping this gives me some relief. 23rd. First thing in the morning I meet Howie for coffee. He tells me he crossed out the whore part in the letter but he tapped in the part that I never want to see her again and hate her. So it's done. 24th. Lord's Day. Today is Lord's Day and my wife's day of goodness. Well she spends the whole day making herself cleaner after four or five weeks in this continued dirt. I feel it would be unfair for me to comment on this but now it is like ritual bath time. I'm cluttering around the house. I'm knocking up nails. I'm making little repairs to things I've neglected, whistled and then to the office to get back to my journal. Some days I've been leaving it in perfect and this matter might grieve us to me I could not write well. Or at all. 25th. 26th. 27th. 28th. 29th. 3rd. Lay long and bed with my life. My business is going better than ever. I think the prayer is helping though I'm going to be perfectly honest. If the mind is a butterfly, mind is resting lightly on the flower of death. 31st. Thus ended this month with very good content that has been the most sad to my heart and the most expensive to my purse. Furnished my wife's closet. New coach and horses, fine as anything we've ever had. It makes me look like a rich man. And so and on with the evening we went through the town.