What can I know? I’m only nineteen years old. What can I know about life? I’m still a teenager. Though I’m married, I’m ahead from other teens. That’s right, I’m married to Jonah Woode. That names me Eve Woode. I’m nineteen year old Eve Woode, who’s married.

                                                                                                                 ~

                                                                                                                                                                                 November 9

Dear Journal,

I’m not going to write in here much. This can only be a temporary thing. Soon I’m going to be too busy to write and probably won’t even remember this soon-to-be-lame journal. I may love you now, but things change, I change. So here I am, Eve. Not much more to tell.

                                                                                                                                                                                 November 14

Dear Journal,

Jonah is super religious. Of course I already knew this, but what I didn’t know is that he was going to make a shrine in the second bedroom of our small apartment. We had agreed that the room was for me and my personal space. I know what you’re thinking: Can’t she just use her bedroom. Why doesn’t Jonah get his own personal space? Well ever since I was a kid, I would have moments in which I cried and cried for hours uncontrollably. I never knew why. I wanted to go to a doctor, but my parents never had the money and Jonah thinks that if I made it this far, why start now. I think he just didn't want to use our sparse money.

Point is, the room was so that I could go to there if I had one of those moments and I could do what has calmed me for years now. Painting, drawing, writing, knitting, making music. But now that the room is crowded with his shrine stuff, there is nothing I can do. I even tried talking to him about it, he just said he forgot and since he already bought all this stuff/used it; he can’t return it. Figures he would “forget.”

I’m not saying I’m not religious too. I’m also a Christian, Jonah is just a heavy Christian. We disagree on some things. I say that you can take other principles from other religions, and learn from their principles, because it can strengthen us. We might even have some of the same customs. But Jonah yelled at me when I told him what I thought. He said "God believes that's a sin to think that way. Do you want to go to hell?"

                                                                                                                                                                                 November 18

Dear Journal,

My mom came over today. She wanted to check out how we decorated the apartment since she’s an interior designer now. Mom wanted to decorate the place, but I told her and Jonah agreed that I should to do it to express myself.

So she came by and looked at it. She looked around and pointed at things as she walked. She pointed at the old mirror that I found in the garbage. She pointed at a re-sanded coffee table. Then she asked about me and Jonah’s bedroom. She said something along the lines of “Honey, this isn’t your style. Who did this? You didn’t ask some other interior designer, right?” No we hadn’t. The room was designed by Jonah. He said he should decorate it because he thinks it’s only fair: I decorate the other rooms, he decorates the bedroom (and the shrine). So I let him.

The room was nice, just hard to live in. Very contemporary. Grey linens, sleek nightstands, many mirrors, ironed flat rugs. Nothing to distinguish that anybody was living or sleeping in there. Jonah said no picture frames, no knick-knacks (which I’m a big fan of) and absolute cleanliness.

Mom is upset because she didn’t get to decorate the tiny place. I told her it wasn’t all that fun and then practically pushed her out the door. Sometimes I feel sick when she comes by.

                                                                                                                                                                            November 30

Dear Journal,

It’s getting really cold outside. Practically fifteen degrees already. While Jonah went out to work, I still had a few hours to kill before I went to my first class of the day. So I went and painted at the bus stop. I know it’s a weird place to paint, but I like it, it helps with not having my moments. It has a really great view of this pretty lake. The lake is under the bridge, and most of the time, people come to this hole-in-the-wall town because of the clear lake and sweet view from the bridge.

I put on my thick coat, a scarf, then another scarf around my head because hats don’t look good on me. Then I put on a glove (I only paint with one hand, so the other hand gets a mitten) and finally my good old-fashioned duck boots. I grabbed my paints and my easel. Some people might think “won’t your paints freeze?” Well, yes, sometimes. That’s why you have to paint the picture as quickly as you can, while still making it the way you want it to look. This time I think I’m going to paint the lake and shore of triangles. When Jonah gets home, he’ll be so impressed with my work. In high school he always loved my paintings.

Jonah didn’t really like it. I had so much fun painting it though. It took a while and some of the paint froze, but it was worth it. The view was amazing as always and the sun shone in just the right spot. Everything was breathtaking. But Jonah said it looked different and he doesn't want me to hang it up. I’m assuming he likes more realistic paintings. Maybe I’ll do one of those next. (In the spring that is)

                                                                                                                                                                                        December 7

Dear Journal,

I had another moment today. Right on my way to class. On the sidewalk, I just panicked. I freaked out and cried. I fell to my knees, sobbing, while people with worried looks walked by. Not one of them asked how I was. It’s fine though. I’m used to it now I guess. Not many people help me anymore.

Once I stopped crying, which suddenly stopped when I dug my face into the snow (probably because it was cold), I went to class. The professor yelled at me and told me to get control of my life. I nodded in response. I talked to Jonah about it after he finished his paperwork, he just said I should head out to class early so that way if something like this happens again, I will hopefully get to class on time. I can tell by the way he looked at the TV, he wasn't at all interested in talking to me or really care. I went to bed soon after this.

                                                                                                                                                                                             January 4

Dear Journal,

Sorry for not writing in a while. I’ve been distracted lately. While Jonah’s at work, I’ve been thinking about doing online college. It’s easier that way because then if I have a moment, I can’t be late or have people stare. I had proposed the idea to Jonah over the phone, but he said it was just an excuse so that I could stay at home all day and laze around. I stopped listening when he continued his lecture about me being lazy and not the person I was in high school. He thinks the devil is taking over my body and mind.

Well, if I’ve changed, then he’s practically a new person. I’m open to change, usually, but I feel like it was all too quick. I can feel us drifting apart. Everything I want to do, he shoots down. I’ll try to talk to him about it when he gets home.

                                                                                                                                                                                               February 21

Dear Journal,

I can feel me fading away from this life. As if I’m walking through life, being the perfect wife. Ever since the day I talked about how we’ve grown in separate ways, I’ve felt broken. Jonah says it’s my fault. That I became some other woman: being selfish by wanting a whole room to myself, painting in my free time instead of cleaning or shopping for groceries. Or that I’m calling him at work when he’s busy or not making dinner. Since that day I’ve been having more and more moments. Twice was on the way to class and both times someone has actually helped me. They called the hospital because they didn’t know what to do. The hospital called Jonah, who went to the hospital just to tell them I was fine and against doctor’s orders of keeping me there so they can see what’s going on with me, he forced me out of the bed and into his car. Where he just yelled at me and said “try not to have your little moments in public. People see, and now think I have some crazy wife. So at least try to do things right, It's what God would want you to do.” I’ll never forget what he said.

So ever since then, I made dinner. I shopped for groceries, cleaned, and greeted him at the door. I never called him at work. I willed myself to not have a moment in public. I have had them during class and I’ve had to run out of class, not knowing where I’m going. People ask if I’m okay, I just say that I found out my dad had died. Not a total lie since he did die. Just not at that point in time.

I was becoming the perfect wife for Jonah. It’s a trade he’d guilt me into: my happiness for his happiness.

                                                                                                                                                                                                         April 12

Dear Journal,

I’m leaving soon. I know why whenever my mom comes by why it is that I feel sick. It’s because she points out the truth indirectly. I’ve known it this whole time, I just didn’t want to admit it. So I’m going soon. Somewhere where everybody will accept me. Some place so far away. It’ll be beautiful over there.

Eve Woode was found floating in the lake under the bridge. She appears to have drowned. Eve seemed to have willingly walked down to the lake and from what a witness said “She just wandered on in. her head was soon indulged completely in, but she didn’t come back up.” Investigators are calling it a suicide. Her husband, Jonah Woode, said he had no idea what was going on and wishes he could see her one more time.