I never intended to read her journal. This is important. I did not enter her room with the intention of finding her journal so that I could read it. Admittedly, this does not exonerate me of anything; however, I believe that my lack of premeditation places the crime in a somewhat less serious category.
So goes excuse #1.
Excuse #2: She did not need to leave the journal in plain view. Again, I don’t mean to claim that I was justified in reading it; far from it; I mean only to say that had she not left the journal on her night table, I never would have read it. The logic here is that, again, I did not seek out the journal but rather fell prey to its temptations.
I am not, I hasten to add, blaming the victim. The victim is innocent and I am guilty. My point, however, and I realize that I have already said this in several ways, is that I am not in the habit of reading people’s journals and that it took an unusual circumstance to get me to do so.
A bit of exposition. This happened over twenty years ago, while I was spending a few weeks in a different city, visiting an old friend.
Actually, wait, there’s excuse #3: I was young and didn’t know better.
But to continue. My friend had a roommate Molly, and Molly was smart and beautiful and artsy and so naturally I developed a little crush on Molly, who, it seemed, developed a little crush on me. Right. So one day, after all this nearly unbearable build-up, me and Molly kiss—or make-out, I suppose—which while great isn’t really so great in the sense that it doesn’t seem that anything happens. We kiss for a time and then stop, and that’s pretty much it. After that, Molly’s interest in me seems to wane, although it is difficult to tell for certain because Molly is a hard read and I feel too shy to ask.
The next day Molly leaves the apartment and I go into her room to find a book to read and instead notice her journal on the night table. Right.
This moment is the key moment and yet I have nothing to say about it. I saw the journal, told myself I shouldn’t read it, decided to read it anyway, and sat down to read it, first noting its exact position on the night table.
Excuse #4: I only read the parts that related to me.
Actually these excuses are not excuses but diminishments. I mean to whittle my crime down to its smallest possible size, like in that game one plays where one takes a little piece of food and splits it in half, then splits one of the halfs in half, again and again, until the thing that remains is but a crumb, or even less than a crumb, and basically disappears.
I began from the entry marked with the date of my appearance in Molly’s household and read through to the present, skipping her reflections on other people and other events.
Here I learned, or confirmed, two important facts:
There were no revelations in any of this and yet it was a great relief to know for certain what had happened. I replaced the journal on the night table and began looking for a book to read.
Whatever book I found, it apparently failed to capture my imagination (excuse #5: I was bored), because the next day I read Molly’s journal a second time to see if she had added anything.
By my way of thinking, this return trip falls into a different, more serious category, for I now knew how Molly felt and thus had no excuse (excuse #6: I didn’t know how Molly felt) for reading her journal.
Excuse #7, apropos of nothing: People do worse things.
Excuse #8: At least I’m being honest about it, for the most part.
At any rate, Molly had in fact added a bit more: she was experiencing a surge in her feelings for me and was wondering if a second round of kissing might be in order. This was thrilling yet confusing, as Molly hadn’t done anything to indicate such feelings in person. Guilt struck (excuse #9: I feel guilt and thus cannot be considered a monster) with the realization that I now knew something I wasn’t supposed to know. This is in contrast to the first reading, which merely confirmed certain suspicions.
Perhaps due to the awkward circumstance of knowing Molly’s secret, I did not kiss her that night (excuse #10: I suffered for my crime), and then the next morning I returned to her journal for the third and last time. Here is what I found written there:
Michael, I know that you are reading my journal because I am reading yours. I don’t want to do this anymore. Truce.
Excuse #11: She was doing it too for christsake, so fucking shoot me.
A man signs a shovel and so he digs.
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