I am not a murderer, just a man in love – George B. Wilson Myrtle. She was the one thing in my life that made it worth living. I loved her more than a rich man might love his money. Never in my life did I think that I would outlive her, even by a day. Until Mr Jay Gatsby made his way into our lives. I had always known Myrtle was cheating on me, I had lashed out at her a few times. But even after it all, I never stopped loving her. It was a slow day in the shop, like the many before it. Comers and goers, never thinking to stop by. I did not mind it like this, sure business was slow, and we were barely making it by, but I got to spend more time with Myrtle. That is all I cared about. It came near to closing time, dark out, and Myrtle kept on looking out of the window as if she …show more content…
I nearly gave up, but I went to one last gas station to ask the questions. And he had the answer. It was Jay Gatsby After she died, I prayed and spoke to her. I told her she might fool me, but she could not fool God. So, I took her to the window, and then I said 'God knows what you have been doing, everything you have been doing. You may fool me, but you cannot fool God. She might have been sleeping around and not keeping her loyalty to me, but she was the love of my life, and I could not care less about it anymore. I kept thinking about the ways I could have stopped her death from happening, why wasn’t I there for her, why did I let her run outside, why did I turn away? There were so many ways I could have prevented this. But I did not. This was all my fault. What kind of a man am I? One that cannot keep his wife alive it seemed. But then I thought If Gatsby was the one who hit her, was it my fault? No. It was his. Mr Jay Gatsby, a man that I had looked up to and envied for such a long time had been the reason for my love, Myrtle’s,