Now I could fall asleep only after drinking a decent dose of alcohol, and my husband also reproached me with this, although he himself brought me to this state. So what? Than to drink medicines that have a lot of side effects, it is better to take high-quality expensive alcohol. Somewhere I read, and maybe Malysheva was talking about this on TV that only cheap, low-quality alcohol, which every impoverished trash drinks, is harmful. I did not want to repeat the fate of Marilyn, who at age 36 had been killed by antidepressants and the betrayal of her beloved man.

I could neither cook nor clean the house, I was overwhelmed with thoughts of a crumbling family. As soon as my husband returned home, I pounced on him from the doorway with my experiences and questions. If everything is so bad now, then how are we going to live on, I wondered. And he was often rude to me and demanded something to eat, as if he was not a man, but some kind of soulless animal. However, he soon began to dine in restaurants, and I lost interest in his person. Now the evenings were calm, and we slept in different rooms.

If it were not for communicating with my girlfriend, I would have completely lost my mind from sadness and loneliness. Sometimes I felt pity for Sveta: she didn’t know how to dress, didn’t know how to find a worthy husband, had to work in order to have money for food. Sveta said she was “making a career.” It seems that this is called “grief from the mind” - she considered herself very clever, but behaved like a fool. I gave her a couple of very important life tips, including how to choose the right handbags and shoes in stores, but she missed everything in front of her ears and dressed like a wedge. But Sveta had one very good quality - she sincerely admired me and wanted to help me in everything. I, accustomed to the envy of women around me, was glad to communicate with a friend who did not hesitate to recognize my superiority over her.

Once Sveta said that I was like Scarlett, so I am always sure of my rightness and achieve my goal at any cost. I kept silent and turned the conversation to another. Sveta might even have thought that I did not read Margaret Mitchell’s novel. And I just did not want to tell my friend that she was a fool. How can you compare me with Scarlett? Scarlett is an alcoholic and a prostitute who married several times, just to get money for her business.

If I look like a heroine, it’s only Jane Eyre. An educated, educated lady who had suffered many injustices and blows of fate from her youth, how dexterously she managed to achieve her goals. She did not agree to become the mistress of Mr. Rochester, and in the end was rewarded by the fact that after a few years she received him as her husband and became the sole mistress of the entire estate.

Ah, if I had taken an example from her and refused to my beloved intimacy before the wedding night. But I lost my head from love and spread my legs and mouth in front of him instead of gritting my teeth and waiting for the wedding as Jane did. For Jane, as for me, the most important thing in life is family values ​​and love. They say that Charlotte Bronte was a virgin, so in her novel there are no explicit erotic scenes, although, in my opinion, writing about true love without details of passionate sex is like photographing a nudist beach without naked sunbathers. Since I began to give pleasure to touch my nipples, I began to sleep naked and reread all the love novels. Having closed the last page of the novel by the French writer Mariah Bibid, I understood why I was born into this world.

I could talk about a lot with Sveta, but not about literature. Sveta is a lover of cheap love stories. The pinnacle of literary art for her is the work of Sidney Sheldon.One day, my girlfriend went over alcohol, and while I was dragging her home to her apartment number 50, she brought out my whole little brain with stories about the mill of the gods and the anger of angels, she promised to show me the opposite side of midnight and the twilight of the gods. The grandmothers at her entrance crossed themselves after us, having decided that it was Margaret and her maid Natasha, they went to a bad apartment for the Great Ball of Satan.

I hope, girls, you have already understood that I am not one of those who give up easily and go with the flow. Having decided to somehow break out of the vicious circle of depression, I began to take the opportunity to visit my husband in the office. One day my husband, in the heat of a quarrel, unjustly accused me of spending too much, and I was not earning anything myself. Let us leave aside the obvious nonsense of this accusation, firstly, I spend not much, only on the most necessary, secondly, I work a lot and hard at home. The main thing is that after a while I remembered these words to him and stated that I would like to earn money working in his office as his personal assistant. It was my personal idea, and I was proud of it. Even my friend Sveta was at first for some reason against it, although she herself worked in my husband's company and, thus, we would see her more often. But my husband took this idea with joy, it seemed to him that now I would be busy with his work in full view, and he would be able to better control my life. He hired a regular housekeeper and arranged for me to his office.

I pursued my far-reaching plans. Firstly, I was really bored with sitting at home, and my work gave me new interesting acquaintances with men, and secondly, I could control my civil husband better, because I began to get suspicions that he had a mistress. Now so many ugly and arrogant girls divorced, especially those who came from the provinces, who have nothing sacred, for the money they are ready to take the man away even from the family, although there is a saying: “you cannot build your own happiness on someone else’s misfortune” Chicks heard about it. I did not want to lose my beloved man and was ready to fight for him.

Sveta explained her protests, precisely because she saw the main danger in the housekeeper, who could desire my husband's wealth, climb into his bed, and then all her works, Sveta, would be in vain. At that time Sveta was very drunk, not me, and her incredible emotionality and jealousy towards that red-headed bitch that appeared in our house as a housekeeper remained incomprehensible to me. Light possible betrayal of my husband with a housekeeper worried even more than me, that's what a real girlfriend means. And yet it is time for her to tie up with the gutter novels; she sees love intrigue and betrayal everywhere.

Sveta did not understand that the main reason that made me go to work was not jealousy, but concern for my husband. Recently, his health began to deteriorate, and I realized that irreparable things could happen at any moment, and then I would become the heiress and mistress of his business. I didn’t understand anything about it and decided to go in advance, so to speak, on internships and training; with their efforts and brains to go from simple assistant to director of the company.

To encourage my beloved, I even started a conversation about agreeing to the most modest wedding, if only to legitimize our relationship, but now for some reason he did not agree to a simple painting. He said that he was saving money for the most gorgeous wedding, about which they would even write in the newspapers, but I have to wait a bit. I, of course, agreed to wait, because I trusted him. In family life, girls, without trust, it is impossible to build harmonious relationships; any distrust, especially jealousy, destroys love like rust. If my husband trusted me and was not jealous of me for trifles, then maybe he would have managed to save love and family. Soon you will learn how, through the fault of this fool, one of the most loving and romantic couples of our time has broken up.

In the office, I quickly figured out what was happening, and first of all I had sex with the head of the company's security service.It was necessary to attract the right person to his side.

Of course,... Read more →