Tuesday
Dearest,
I feel certain I am going mad again. I feel we can’t go through another of those terrible times. And I shan’t recover this time. I begin to hear voices, and I can’t concentrate. So I am doing what seems the best thing to do. You have given me the greatest possible happiness. You have been in every way all that anyone could be. I don’t think two people could have been happier till this terrible disease came. I can’t fight any longer. I know that I am spoiling your life, that without me you could work. And you will I know. You see I can’t even write this properly. I can’t read. What I want to say is I owe all the happiness of my life to you. You have been entirely patient with me and incredibly good. I want to say that – everybody knows it. If anybody could have saved me it would have been you. Everything has gone from me but the certainty of your goodness. I can’t go on spoiling your life any longer.
I don’t think two people could have been happier than we have been.
4 comments:
These lines never fail to move me, no matter how many times I read them. A great happiness and a profound sadness co-exist here and I'm not sure if this mutual existence is easy to live with or not. I'll take a guess and assume it isn't.
Thanks for sharing these wonderful lines, in the original...
@ Enigma: To each, her own. Though I don't know which way it goes. Does one fish out joy from misery or misery from joy.
@wildflower: Depends on your perspective, I guess. The good is never perfectly good. The bad is never utterly bad.
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