Entry tags:
for lydia
My love,
The first thing that I must say here is that you are not to blame yourself for this. It was my decision, and I will not allow you to own a single part of it.
The second thing I must say is that I did this for you.
Hear me out, Lydia: don't think I don't know that you're getting angry. I know you: heart, mind, body, and soul. I know you will be angry at Claire for this, and I want you to try very hard not to be. Again: I asked her to do this, and I asked her to keep my counsel. She's a physician, my dearest love--and you love her too dearly to ask her to break her oaths of healing. Even for family.
You're afraid, Lydia. You're afraid of us, and that fear is justified. You've been through a hell I could only imagine...a hell I am learning to empathize with as I share a room with you for dinner, and feel as though I am alone. As a telepath, it's who I am: I relate to others through sharing thoughts, and the mind is a sacred place. If I am not welcome, I do not go, and that is why I cannot let myself delve into yours.
I am weak, and your mind is as seductive to me as your beautiful body, as comforting and representative of home as your heart. If I touch your thoughts, I will make a home there whether I am invited or not. I won't be able to stop myself.
And I cannot cope with my powers without you. It's a simple fact--I warned you, once upon a time, that I had to learn to cope without your aid, that you couldn't always be there to coddle me.
Nevertheless, you persisted. My angel, my conscience...my world.
In sleep, I am safe from myself--and I cannot leave your side, I've made myself your ward. Claire told me your secrets: the school, the ring. I have not left you, my love, and so you must not grieve.
My room is so quiet--talk to me, play music, bring the others in and have a party 'round my bed. Watch me, and see if I smile in my sleep because I hear you.
My days are long, shorten them with stories about your day or all the things I've missed in my frozen sleep.
My bed is large. Sleep by my side, listen to the beating of my heart. Hear it quicken as I dream of your skin against mine, your taste on my tongue...because I am dreaming of you now as I fall asleep.
I dream of flowers and rain. I dream of the softest, urgent hums stifled behind your closed lips as you hide your pleasure. I dream of another dream, a student's apartment at Oxford and making love with every part of myself--I dream of reality, of the innocent reassurance of waking up beside you for the very first time in my bed.
Once upon a time, I told you death is a part of life, Lydia. Never doubt that you are as vibrant and alive as anyone--perhaps moreso--because you understand death as few people can. Even stars burn out eventually, but oh how they shine before they do! That is your mind, your heart and your soul--a dazzling star.
The sun is also a star. It gives life and comfort through its raging fire.
Watch me sleep, and give yourself time. Let your heart understand that I will protect it, your mind comprehend that I live, your soul heal with the knowledge that true and long life is waiting for you when I open my eyes. If you feel you're ready, you may ask Claire to wake me--just show her this letter.
But I have a theory--a theory that states death is not merely part of life. Death can give life.
You may ask Claire to wake me...but I'd rather not use drugs.
I sleep, I dream...and I wait for the wailing woman who wears my ring to lift her voice and claim me for her own.
I love you,
Charles
The first thing that I must say here is that you are not to blame yourself for this. It was my decision, and I will not allow you to own a single part of it.
The second thing I must say is that I did this for you.
Hear me out, Lydia: don't think I don't know that you're getting angry. I know you: heart, mind, body, and soul. I know you will be angry at Claire for this, and I want you to try very hard not to be. Again: I asked her to do this, and I asked her to keep my counsel. She's a physician, my dearest love--and you love her too dearly to ask her to break her oaths of healing. Even for family.
You're afraid, Lydia. You're afraid of us, and that fear is justified. You've been through a hell I could only imagine...a hell I am learning to empathize with as I share a room with you for dinner, and feel as though I am alone. As a telepath, it's who I am: I relate to others through sharing thoughts, and the mind is a sacred place. If I am not welcome, I do not go, and that is why I cannot let myself delve into yours.
I am weak, and your mind is as seductive to me as your beautiful body, as comforting and representative of home as your heart. If I touch your thoughts, I will make a home there whether I am invited or not. I won't be able to stop myself.
And I cannot cope with my powers without you. It's a simple fact--I warned you, once upon a time, that I had to learn to cope without your aid, that you couldn't always be there to coddle me.
Nevertheless, you persisted. My angel, my conscience...my world.
In sleep, I am safe from myself--and I cannot leave your side, I've made myself your ward. Claire told me your secrets: the school, the ring. I have not left you, my love, and so you must not grieve.
My room is so quiet--talk to me, play music, bring the others in and have a party 'round my bed. Watch me, and see if I smile in my sleep because I hear you.
My days are long, shorten them with stories about your day or all the things I've missed in my frozen sleep.
My bed is large. Sleep by my side, listen to the beating of my heart. Hear it quicken as I dream of your skin against mine, your taste on my tongue...because I am dreaming of you now as I fall asleep.
I dream of flowers and rain. I dream of the softest, urgent hums stifled behind your closed lips as you hide your pleasure. I dream of another dream, a student's apartment at Oxford and making love with every part of myself--I dream of reality, of the innocent reassurance of waking up beside you for the very first time in my bed.
Once upon a time, I told you death is a part of life, Lydia. Never doubt that you are as vibrant and alive as anyone--perhaps moreso--because you understand death as few people can. Even stars burn out eventually, but oh how they shine before they do! That is your mind, your heart and your soul--a dazzling star.
The sun is also a star. It gives life and comfort through its raging fire.
Watch me sleep, and give yourself time. Let your heart understand that I will protect it, your mind comprehend that I live, your soul heal with the knowledge that true and long life is waiting for you when I open my eyes. If you feel you're ready, you may ask Claire to wake me--just show her this letter.
But I have a theory--a theory that states death is not merely part of life. Death can give life.
You may ask Claire to wake me...but I'd rather not use drugs.
I sleep, I dream...and I wait for the wailing woman who wears my ring to lift her voice and claim me for her own.
I love you,
Charles