November 22nd, 1881

My love,

Yes, the Isle of Wight; with its soft cliffs and sea ledges cascading into the abyss; how many times I have relived in my mind our journey on the River Yar; your sights set on Bembridge, mine set only on you.

I never spoke of this, but it was in the village of Niton when first I confessed silently, my undying love for you. We’d climbed the tower of St. Catherine’s Lighthouse and as you stood looking out into the sea, I stood looking at you; certain that we were the only two souls existing in all the world; the peace and calm reflected in your gaze, emanating from within, penetrating my own soul. I knew then I could never live without you; no matter what cost.

And so I sit here now in the confines of these walls, holding your words in my hands and my heart; believing you were here, for not only do I possess them, but felt your presence the moment I awoke; yet unbelieving all the same; for there was another presence I felt as well; a strange, ominous and terrifying force that loomed within the very air.

Perhaps father’s warnings were not far off the mark, when he suggested there were those unfortunate souls who stop at nothing in regards to financial gain. Perhaps you’ve found yourself in a difficult spot and are unable to turn to your own, to ease a debt you possibly owe. My instinct tells me you do not travel alone; and I fear not only for my own safety, but yours as well. For how is it you could come to me, into my chamber whilst I sleep and not take me in your arms, waking me from my dreams?

If indeed you are in trouble of this sort, surely you must know that all I have, I willingly give. It isn’t even a matter of your having to ask; simply tell me what it is you need from me and my darling, it is yours.

I simply cannot understand this mysterious shroud and why you cannot speak of this thing you claim has happened to you? What fear is this that makes you shudder and why would you suggest our love that we know to be never-ending is perhaps forbidden; and what of your darkened soul? How can you speak such abominable things?

I don’t know why I write this, I don’t even know where you are. Perhaps for the sake of my own sanity; to purge my soul in the form of these words, of the fear and things I’m thinking. I do not know if you will even receive them, but I shall leave them for you all the same.

Alas, I cannot meet you in the grove, but will await you within the safety of my chamber, praying you return to me; not in the sorrow of nightfall, but when the full moon rises and casts it magical light, just as you were when last you left me.

Come to me, my love, and take whatever you will; for all I have and all that I am, I eagerly and willingly give.

Trusting in your love,
Clarissa

~ by indigospirit on July 20, 2008.