June 10, 1922
This night we went to a party at Gatsby’s place. This week I’ve dined with him before and Daisy insisted on going to the festivities. Word goes around that there are parties there every week. First I had no interest in going, but there is something about this Gatsby. I think he has an eye on Daisy or something. This man shouldn’t be trying tot get an affair with Daisy, or I’ll punch him in the face. Although Daisy and I don’t have a perfect marriage, I do have my honour.
I’m hoping she isn’t trying to get back on me. The fact that I have a mistress isn’t that much of a secret, but she behaves like nothing is going on. As I doubt whether she would actually care about me having an affair, it wasn’t my intention to piss her off. But this Gatsby guy gets me wondering.
When Daisy and I were in France, she was different from now. We were with the two of us, travelling and partying. I must say it was a good time, we hang around, no problems from family. But I just had to get out of there, Europe was infected. I read a lot of books out there that showed me that one race has to be on top. It just can’t be both. That’s why we moved to East Egg, people we belong to. This feels like home, I can play football, polo, and there no races around who frustrate me. There were only two things that bothered me. The first was the child that we got, I think Daisy as the mother should raise it, so I let it be.
And second is this Gatsby. Damn this freak! Came living here like he was some kind of God, showing his money around. Giving parties every week. I talked to a couple of friends of mine who told me some stories about him. Attended to Oxford and this fancy background of him. I just didn’t have a good feeling about one man suddenly appearing with so much wealth, so I decided to check him out. And what came out, our great Gatsby earned his money by bootlegging. He turns out to be a...