A letter to a friend

Dear friend,

Thank you for your kind letter. It made me enormously happy that you would miss my company as much as I missed yours.

As for your concern about my condition, rest assured, all is well.

It is true that there was a time I suffered. I cried for his gentle eyes, for his sweet and sensible words, for his warm and manly hands, but never for his affection.

I now believe it was never given to me in the first place. For what are playful looks and sweet spoken words than expectations and outpourings of our imagination? I am inclined to think actions speak louder than everything else. And, indeed, there is a positively huge lack of those in our short attachment, if I dare say. In so many years of existence, and so many more to come, two or three years would not count as much, don’t you think?

Even so, it felt like a lifetime. A lifetime of misunderstandings, unsent letters, unfinished conversations and unanswered questions.

I pray you will not think ill of him. I cannot place any guilt on his part, nor can I say he misled me in some sort of way. He was, as always, a gentleman and a sincere and amiable one. The memories I have of him are nothing short of fond. And I wish him every happiness.

As for the tears, they never came back. They dried with the hope of finding him again. All that is left is a vague picture of a beautiful past that never was…and an emptiness I cannot explain. I feel as if all this is nothing but a story and I, the author, left to face reality once again, now that the work is done.

Am I wrong or foolish to believe in honorable people who say what they mean and show what they feel without going back on their promises, or turn their words vague or feelings uncertain? Maybe my mind, and my heart, have long since surpassed my body in age. I feel like an old maid who had her chance at happiness and was afraid of taking it. And now it is too late to start the search again…very silly of me, don’t you think?

Let us hope that a new breeze may pass my window and bring better days with it. In all honesty, I would like to feel young again, to feel the blood pumping in my veins and the butterflies restless in my stomach. I wish to see promises written in the eyes and words full of love, certain, unwavering. And finally understand what it is to love and be loved in return.

Until then, I’ll stay here – unmoved, unchanged, unfeeling.

But with the utmost happiness of knowing I have in you a friend, a confidant and the best company I could have asked for in this life.

Your always affectionate friend,



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