What I was thinking when I shot Gatsby...

                When I shot Gatsby, my mind was numb. Myrtle had been everything to me. She was the only good thing left to me in this wretched world. I'd lost her. In fact, I'd lost her twice. Once when she was killed, and then twice when I lost the pure memory of her when I found out she had been unfaithful. Oh, whatever did I do to make God hate me so? I work long hours for meager pay, in a place I don't like, and for people I can't stand. The one thing I had was Myrtle, and as it happens, I didn't have her in the end either. So for once, I decided I was going to get something I wanted. I was going to get revenge. I knew that the man who had taken my wife as his mistress must have been the one to have killed her. I searched for him, my mind numb with anger, pain, and revenge. I was directed to Gatsby, and it was Gatsby I shot. I shot him because I had been sure that he was the one who had taken her life and her faithfulness. I shot him because I was thinking on revenge, on my losses, and on my cursed life. I shot him because my brain was numb with painful thoughts. My brain was numb.