Desdemona had survived.

But Othello had not.

And it was even worse when she was in all her denial and grief. Not even paying attention to her newborn daughter; which was very unlike Desdemona, but if you were a lovesick, young, naive woman like her, it might've been. And that meant, that Ophelia was on your shoulders now, your weight even heavier as you had to spend hours comforting Desdemona as she cried and cried, too blind to see the reality of Othello's cruel actions.

You were the opposite of her - logical, sharp-tongued, stubborn. You needed people to earn your respect, you didn't fall in love with them at the drop of a hat. You didn't fall at men's feet, you didn't make decisions based on feelings; you would be logical, you wouldn't let anything cloud your judgment. Not even love, and god knew what love could do to some people; like Desdemona.

The nights were long, and you felt a sense of frustration when Desdemona opened your door late in the evening, most likely to cry.