top of page

Dear Diary,
I sometimes wonder if this so called happiness is actually a curse.
Every day is the same. As I look upon my husband and the beautiful home we've made together, all I'm left with is an unsatisfying feeling of: what now?
My days consist of keeping things in order, making sure he's happy, keeping up appearances...
But who am I when all I am is his designated wife?
What lies beyond the woods that surround this perfect prison called home?
I'm yet to find out and I'm starting to wonder if I ever will...
Yours truly,
o
bottom of page