Love letter # 110
Having endeavoured to maintain a modicum of sanity I must now confess to abject failure in this regard. I look back across the gulf that separates me from my old self and the mad river is you.
Naturally, there are blessings: the coldness that surrounded me, the dullness in my heart – they have been replaced by fire. If I was living beforehand, I am simply alive now.
However, I have cause to wonder who I am. What became of that reasonable man? Was this delirious demon always there; a hellcat in hiding?
Composure is just a mask waiting for a kiss to destroy it. Perhaps even sanity is simply what we accept in place of love. If I have bled at least it proved the existence of blood. This knife makes me real.
It would scarcely surprise you to know that I have been through anger – that I have sought refuge in the treehouse of spite. You will, I hope, be pleased to learn that I have abandoned such follies. I live now with invisible dancers, with those shimmering, magical beings who love without reason – who love simply because it is the best of all possible ways.
So to you, my friend, I give abundant thanks. If I wake up tomorrow in a beautiful place it will be because you trashed the maps. Indeed, this whole world is new because of you. Was there ever a greater gift?