A Journal of Woe Essay

The pain was excruciating as I struggled to fight for my biography under the pillow that my be have it offd husband had forced upon me. I mean how much it hurts as I tried to gasp for air on a lower floor Othellos powerful arms. I can recall those murderous eyeball driven mad by jealousy and hate. For an instant, I failed to recognize the mankind I have fought to love. I cannot recognize that man I in secret married despite my fathers objections. For a moment, I failed to escort the man who promised to love me for the rest of our lives. It all started that fateful night when Othello laid-off Michael Cassio from his lieutenant position.He accused me of sleeping with Cassio. The jealousy was probably nigh triggered when he felt that I was being too c oncerned with Cassios situation. He must have thought that my acts in favor of Cassios defense were signs of centre for him. He accused me of giving Cassio the handkerchief which was a gift from him. There is no way I would have addicted such a valuable gift to someone else My love and affection is undividedly offered for Othello. It does not seek other men aside from him. My fidelity to my coupling and to my husband is pure and untainted. How could he even dare think of me with such immoralityHowever, it was too late to defend myself further, for the fire in his eye was already consumed with too much evil to pay any worry to my cries. Yet, before death consumed what was left of my body, the image of the man I love came before my eyes. I forgive him. He is a victim and not a murderer. I know in his heart that he loves me still, and once this madness brought about by his jealousy ends, he would repent and wait for forgiveness. Or, he might end his life as well to come through me, so he can make it up to me personallyand I will be waiting on the other side.