HOURS


Dearest, I feel certain that I am going mad again. I feel we can’t go through another of these terrible times, and I… shan’t recover this time. I begin to hear voices, and can’t concentrate. So, I am doing what seems to be 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 know that I am spoiling your life, and without me, you could work. And you will, I know.

You see, I can’t even write this properly. What I want to say is that I owe all the happiness of my life to you. You have been entirely patient with me and incredibly good.  Everything’s 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.

She never wants anything.

She’ll kill herself.

She’ll kill herself over something

You disturb me when you disappear.

My life has been stolen from me.

I’m living in a town. I have no wish to live in. I’m living… a life I have no wish to live. If I were thinking clearly. If I were thinking clearly. If I were thinking clearly, Leonard, I would tell you that I wrestle alone in the dark, in the deep dark, and that only I can know, only I can understand my own condition.

You live with the threat, you tell me, you live with the threat of my extinction. This is my right. It is the right of every human being. I choose not the suffocating anaesthetic of the suburbs, but the violent jolt of the capital. That is my choice.

The meanest patient, yes, even the very lowest is allowed some say in the matter of her own prescription. Thereby she defines her humanity. I wish, for your sake, Leonard, I could be happy in this quietness. But if it is a choice between Richmond and death, I choose death.

You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. You can do as you like. But I still have to face the hours, don’t I?

I mean, the hours after the party, and the hours after that.  There are times when you don’t belong, and you think you’re going to kill yourself. But what does it mean?

What does it mean to regret, when you have no choice? It’s what you can bear. There it is. No one’s going to forgive me. It was death. I chose life.

Dear Leonard, to look life in the face… always to look life in the face, and to know it for what it is. At last, to know it, to love it for what it is, and then, to put it away.

Leonard, always the years between us, always the years, always, the love, always, the hours.

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