November 21st, 1881

My only love,

I leave this letter with great trepidation

I stood outside your window for the longest time, afraid to show myself; what I’ve become. I held your letter in my hand, drenched from an unremitting downpour; so typically British, so boring; and yet so familiar as to make me weep, blood stained tears, against hollow cheeks. If only I could feel the cold of such a night, then perhaps I would know solace.

I stood for hours, quiet, ashamed and yet some how, determined to reach you, to let you know of my love; perhaps forbidden, but never ending. When I could take no more I entered your bedroom and watched you sleep. Did you feel me; could you sense my presence in your dream? I reached out to you from the shadows of your room and found your soul within the landscape of the ethereal. You are so beautiful that words will not do justice to what I saw with my own darkened soul.

I stood so close as to hear your breathe; a stalker am I or only a man possessed by love? I had never stood in your private chamber until that moment. My hand caressed the frame that held our photo from the Isle of Wight. You looked; we looked so happy, so perfect together; made for one another in a world that shows no pity for lovers crossed by fate. Ah, my fate! Our fate! I hung my head and could only depart the way I came.

You have vowed your trust, but my fear of what you will find makes me shudder. Yes, to give trust to the normalcy of living, the morality of the church and God; trust to a living mans hand; yes, this trust can be given. But the trust I ask of you is beyond the scope of morality, beyond the living breath of a normal mans longing. Ah, my love, you know not of what I speak, and I cannot blame you. I will come again in the morrow, when shadows cast there weary darkness against our island home. I would like to meet you by the grove where we first kissed. However, if this does not suit you, leave me a note by the pond where it would be more to your desire; if you shall meet me at all.

If you are willing, I will let you look upon me then and see if your trust can take such a leap. For I am asking you to step into the unknown with me; a godless landscape of eternity; true there are wonders to behold, but such a price I would never ask of you. You must come of your own free will.

Until the sorrow of nightfall
Archibald

~ by indigospirit on July 20, 2008.