A Journal of Woe Essay

The pain was excruciating as I struggled to fight for my life under the pillow that my beloved husband had forced upon me. I remember how much it hurts as I tried to gasp for air beneath Othello’s powerful arms. I can recall those murderous eyes driven mad by jealousy and hate. For an instant, I failed to recognize the man I have fought to love. I cannot recognize that man I secretly married despite my father’s objections. For a moment, I failed to see the man who promised to love me for the rest of our lives. It all started that fateful night when Othello fired Michael Cassio from his lieutenant position. He accused me of sleeping with Cassio. The jealousy was probably most triggered when he felt that I was being too concerned with Cassio’s situation. He must have thought that my acts in favor of Cassio’s defense were signs of affection for him. He accused me of giving Cassio the handkerchief which was a gift from him. There is no way I would have given 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 marriage and to my husband is pure and untainted. How could he even dare think of me with such immorality! However, it was too late to defend myself further, for the fire in his eyes was already consumed with too much evil to pay any heed 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 ask for forgiveness. Or, he might end his life as well to follow me, so he can make it up to me personally—and I will be waiting on the other side.