5/25/23

H,

I hope you can pardon the suddenness with which this letter was delivered, but the lack of time we have before our inevitable separation necessitated such a cruelty. For at least a half year I have been plagued with a dependency on your favour, the origins of which are still unclear to me. My every waking moment is spent in anticipation of the night, where we are sure to be together in what i delude myself into believing to be a mutual transcendence. Your countenance is as fair as the evening sun behind the bluest of oceans, and your wit sharp as the most sinfully gracious blade. Beneath your defense of mundanity I sense and have observed a conflicted soul with an outlook which I long to fully understand, for I kno it to be worth any insult to experience out of your own desire. Despite this, i cannot bring myself to face you as i truly am, as i am petrified of your disapproving gaze and/or illfavour. I am hesitant on calling such a phenomenon love, as in actuality you think nothing of me worth discussing in a positive fashion, but I know it to be more than simple limerence or infatuation. Your intellect and grace of figure are unparalleled by even the most highly bred, as well as the sensitivity which i know you to possess beneath your cold exterior. My regard has not been well concealed, which i shall rectify after you receive this letter, and for that i offer no explanation other than my own lack of judgement which i know shall not be forgiven. I also understand that my own position on the social hierarchy compromises any possibility of acknowledgement on your part regardless. Under normal circumstances I would grow resentful, but the forces which drive my regard are such that I cannot, as I wish only to see you in as favourable a light as is possible. The purpose of this correspondence is not to ask for your hand, but rather to express to you the feelings which have consumed me so for the majority of the year prior, as well as to communicate the existence of a version of myself unbeknownst to any other than myself in my solitude, and opposite the brash and vulgar individual I am sure you have grown to resent. I believe that I do love you in some unorthodox sense of the word. This will likely go unchanging, which is why i cannot bear to look you in the eye despite how much i wish to, as I fear you will detect it and be discomforted by such a realization. It pains me to understand this same effect will be amplified tenfold by the time you know this text to have ceased, which is why this will be the last communication we have until the sun eats itself in a display of beautiful extinction. However, I must have you know of my love for you, for if not I fear I may go mad with regret and its accompanying horrors. I wish you nothing but the utmost happiness in your future and the most contentment as you prepare to transition to the next life.

With love,

AM