Love Letters – 5


(4 March 1986)





Dear Heart,

I give myself up utterly to the thought of you which comes to me as I sit here suffering the agony of our separation.

I am out of my senses to pretend to understand the motive or reason behind my affection for you but time spent away from you makes life odious and intolerable as I wait impatiently for you to make some small gesture or sign that I may come to you.

The pleasure of our love comes back to me time and again and my heart is softened with the memories of moments spent with you. A word, a gesture, a sound are among the souvenirs in my mind. Memories that I will treasure always and recall in my solitude to content myself.

I take pleasure and relaxation in your presence away from the cares of business, as elusive thoughts echo through my consciousness of ecstatic moments of fulfilled desire, of infinite tenderness and agonised anguish in the knowledge that it has to end only to begin over again in my mind when I lament I cannot be with you.

In my melancholy, I know full well there is no sense in acquiring tastes I cannot indulge as I am aware of the hundred and one things that have claim to you, but I remain disconcerted by the fluttering of my heart and the tight feeling in my throat at the merest reflection of you and as perpetual isolation enshrouds me, I try to deaden my thoughts in the noise of a crowd but am still unable to banish the obsession that pursues me.

Many a time I enscribe lovingly to you only to tear up the letter or leave it unsent.

What can be more distressing than to drag out this futile existence of mine. If my sorrow could be of use to someone I might find consolation. I have an undeniable longing to dedicate myself to you. It makes me frantic to think of the happiness we might have had if it had been granted to us to meet earlier in our passage through this life..

My cheeks are flushed with desire and I am smitten with a sudden passion for you. I long to surrender myself to you, to drink ambrosia with you. I did not exist before you but now know some gratification of my desires. I long for you to devise some arrangement which would allow us to meet in complete freedom. I live in expectation that there must be a way.

A lesser man would not have vexed and bewildered me so. I yearn to shout and hammer on your door my awareness of you, the inexpressible delight to have known your grace, but the remoteness of you penetrates to the very depth of my being sweeping me into the vast expanses of limitless melancholy. My own passion must remain hidden from view and my existence become as nothing, but I want you to have knowledge of my need, my craving, my weakness for you. I only hope that this betrayal of my feeling for you will not hinder our friendship or place in hazard our already all too rare meetings.


~~~   ~~~   ~~~

Go to Love Letter 6 –


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