Today, no different to any other. The sheets of rain were pelting against my window. The heavy looking clouds were looming over me. I couldn’t help but reminisce what happened this time last year.
All of this thought about Gatsby was consuming me. My eternal guilt for what had happened this exact day was making me feel wheezy. Mr Wilson brutally shooting Jay Gatsby into his extravagant pool in his house, was as if someone sawed off my right leg. Gatsby’s once beautiful body floating right in the middle of his pool was brutal. It had felt like an eternity since I have expressed these feelings. The gloomy day was a great representation the feelings I was experiencing.
The past year has been excruciatingly hard. Not once did I speak to Tom about my feelings, I didn’t attend his funeral which still haunts me to this day and I haven’t spoken to anyone about it. This all made me feel pessimistic. I feel as if I hadn’t experienced little to any joy.
Overtime I believe I would have eventually left Tom for Gatsby. Tom makes me feel as if I am bounded to him. I feel like I’m just to show off to his friends as a status symbol. Gatsby showed me unconditional love. In his letter before my wedding he told me of how he dazed endlessly into the green light at my dock. However, when he organised to meet up with me at Nick’s house It was rather awkward and