Correspondance.1

Dear brother:

Yesterday I cleaned out my coat pocket file and found among other things an unmailed letter to you – filed for lack of a stamp. I was responding to your Valentine’s greetings with somewhat too much caution. Better I burned the letter.

I didn’t set out to argue. I only wanted to say that you mustn’t misunderstand those of us who cling to our illusion that life isn’t a hoax as you cling to your own illusions — which are not illusions, not such things as dreams are made of but such things as are the very source of life. We all live by faith, but our faiths are various, and they aren’t all equally sound. Perhaps I am not as grounded as you are — but there are small points on which I think I am more realistic — more of a Thomas who needs wounds to lay her hands on, and that goes for others, doesn’t it.

I have been going through some major readjustments in my relations. Not in thought but inside. I am not out of it. But I see light. I can’t understand why I am so incredibly stupid, so slow in learning obvious things. I think I’ve had a complex or something, which was, however, no more than overweening trailer park ambition..

I’m finishing this letter two weeks after starting it, having in the meanwhile successfully contended with a little attack of melancholy.

I think I just wanted to write to say that though I can’t see eye to eye with you I think I understand you and that in your battle I am an ally if not a soldier in the same division, and I love you.

As ever,
Natalie

~ by Natalie on 28 March.