But there was always this implicit whisper to her explicit cries in her entries. He felt as if these men were escape, all in comparison with things he himself could not do for her. She always mentioned "if only my husband was this..and that". A lack of communication. He wished he would have asked her how her day was, or took the extra two seconds to pick up her gloves if she had dropped them. She found men to do this for her, for exchange of her body and her temporary love. Was this entirely her selfishness or his lack of being enough for her? He pulled away from the diary for a moment, tears budding at his eyes, tempted to take a lighter from his pocket and set the world he once knew all on fire.