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September 24, 2007
She was particularly troubled that he would never apologize; never see that he had any responsibility for the rift, for the breach of trust. From his perspective, it was always her fault that he got upset; that he yelled at her; that he cooled and drank excessively; that he had to smoke himself into oblivion. Always, Lydia’s fault.

Something snapped inside when, raging, he spewed at her; “You and your ilk!” Like there was something subhuman about being female; like because someone had been untrue to him in his youth, she and all women were to blame; like original sin.