17th July 1819
Old memories are floating around my head. I
remember first years of our romance. All we could have was letters and meetings
at… European cemeteries. We had no right to appear publicly. We had no right to
love in a secret. Since the very first day our relationship was made to sink.
Only at nights I could count on kisses in the moonlight in arbours, could
counts words of letters between sheets. I could not have anything more. Supposedly
his heart belonged to me, but we had to be homeless lovers. He chose such a
life where I was unable of calling him my sailor. It was always slipping
through my fingers easily like a silky glove.
I remember our first summer by the sea. As if he
was next to me, but he was not. I remember how he held me in his arms tightly
and sun was sparkling in his hair and around sea waves. I remember drawing
hearts on sand and how good it was to laugh with him around golden heads of
grain. I was always running away from him and he was chasing me like his prey.
Our love was clean like a teardrop.
During salons we played secret melodies for our
souls only. He used to play harpsichord and I was trying to sing. In the end I
was raised in the shadow of remembrance of musical geniuses so I can perform
some pieces of their work too. They were creators not a long ago. Nobody had a
right to know that those rhythms were gathering our hearts together in hot
kisses. Everybody had always admired our performances so much. I heard it was
so natural, real, and moving.
Our story could end a long ago. I could walk away
and never come back or still stand by his side secretly, even when he was giving
me knifes to kiss. Today I am a happy wife next to him, but he is the one who
had to choose – always burning, illegal, temporary romance or peace felt daily
next to the one chosen by heart, kids and quiet elderhood next to soulmate? I
am glad that he understood in the last moment that I am his love forever; that
I am the one he was supposed to find. At some point I had to take a step back
and show him what he had so he could appreciate it. He was the one who had to
decide if he wanted a change. I am just a woman. I could not help him more. He
had to do it by himself. Thanks to it we did not drown when he started sinking
in. He came to his senses and he came to me. He proposed. He let his real and deep
feelings come up.
I could be here no more, so do Mary. But he was
strong enough and I am thankful for that. He fought for us.
Despite all, I am sitting here today, on the
porch, I am writing and watching mountains and path which leads there. My dream
came true. All I had ever wanted was life together, his love, respect, and this
peace I am feeling now.
But in fact… What was a point to always hide if
not always there was a different woman in sight? What was a reason that I could
not be happy next to my loved one? Why we could not live like… people? What was
a reason? Convention or something deeper…? Why was he always running away from
me and trying to forget about me if I was all he was dreaming of and I loved
him so…? But does it really matter today? Milk had already been spilled.
We went for a walk yesterday. He was satisfied. I
could see it in his eyes. They always shine then. And those charming dimples when
he smiles… I love to see him happy. I only wish I were always a reason of that
smile and happiness that he emanates.
You are my life, William. My soul belongs to you in
the last ten years. My heart loves you with all its capacity. I fell in love
with you during that ball night when I first time saw you. I promised you that
I would never walk away so here I am for you, darling. Even when you get lost
in a maze of loneliness, I am there for you; I have always been.
Maybe his brother comes tomorrow? Maybe I will answer
for a letter sent by my old friend tomorrow? Maybe I will tell you all about my new friends-actresses tomorrow? We
will see tomorrow! It is time to end this note and escape to my family!
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