Remembering you is suicide

A Letter to My Unknown Love

Havensin Estate, England, 1889

“It seems as though the world has taken every shade of grey and ash,” it graces the yellowed paper, written in a trembling hand with calligraphic elegance, as the pen slowly traces delicate characters. “I have completely lost my mind from love for a forgotten yet so dearly beloved soul. And within me, the storm sinks all the ships sailing towards you. Please, just come to meet me, and we shall conquer all misfortunes, reaching our quiet harbor. Just appear, and make my heart beat again, trembling with the unspoken desire to see your handsome face. And I swear, I don’t care how long I may gaze upon your sight: a brief moment, a fleeting second, a precious instant — such things are trifles. It will sustain me for centuries to come. I could hastily capture your faintly familiar scent of white acacia, your refined silhouette, visible from afar, your graceful dark strands fluttering in the wind. And all these details about you drive me to the point of no return. It frightens me deeply, terrifies me, that the limit of my love for you is boundless. To you, the one who fills each new night with warm memories, safe within the vault of my mind. You are the main character in all my dreams. You are the one whose face vaguely appears through the veil of my hopeless reveries of you. And I am weak…,” the young gentleman whispers the final word aloud, slowly dipping his pen into the inkpot, “…because like a free bird, I fall at your feet. I am so shamefully powerless before you that I am ready to destroy all the stars glimmering on the chaotic heavens, unworthy of lighting your path. You are not of this world; you are my divinity, the one before whom I fall to my knees, and breath is stolen by the mere sensation of your gaze upon my body. Let me, I beg you, just a little more, stand by your side, gently hold your hand to my heart, and finally feel whole, strong. The one who would face all the wars of the world, just to know that behind me stands you — a treasure hidden from all others, belonging only to me,” a heavy sigh and a pinch of sadness in amber eyes, aglow with the golden flicker of candlelight. “I have written down all my dreams, just so I don’t forget you again. I cannot express in words how deeply I fear waking up another dark night, bewildered, with an empty head, without a single thought of us, which would mean that I have forgotten you once more. But do not worry, sooner or later I’ll find that very diary among the many shelves of books, the one that will bring us together again. I will study you thoroughly once more, learn of all your passions, read all your favorite poems, and try to come even a millimeter closer to you. But even all these pages aren’t enough, so few that my chest is crushed by the bony hand of guilt, like a storm cloud looming over my weakness. For I am suffocating, unable to recall the shape of your eyes, unable to recreate in my mind your radiant smile, never having seen every feature of your face to capture them in art. Forgive me, I am trying…” The hand halts for a moment, gripping the pen tighter between trembling fingers. “…I am trying so hard to remember you, to love you unreciprocated, and to hope for your return. And I will wait for you forever, because in my dreams, we were so happy, madly in love, and pure. I am certain that only you can bring all the joys of this earth to me, that only through you will I live again, and the world will regain all the vibrant colors of spring. But sometimes my sorrowful soul, yearning for you, flounders in doubts, sinking into the murky swamp of contemplation. What if you are merely my lovely illusion? Could you truly be nothing more than a fantasy, summoned to my aid every time my eyelids fall? And even if so, I accept it, only please do not leave my thoughts, my enchanting fantasy.”

I’ll close my eyes in sudden hush,

And seal my wounds with thoughts of you.

I’ll be a bird from worlds unseen,

Whose ghostly wings stir dread anew.

And crimson stars will blaze and burn,

Consuming all my path to thee.

It hurts with dread, a heavy grief,

As light is swallowed by the grey.

No hopes remain for joy to stay,

No end to scars that never mend.

Yet still it seems the night obeys

And in my dreams, we meet again.