๐๐จ๐ฎ, ๐๐๐๐, ๐๐ซ๐ ๐๐จ ๐๐ฎ๐๐ก ๐๐๐ญ๐ญ๐๐ซ ๐๐ก๐๐ง ๐๐ง๐ฒ๐จ๐ง๐ ๐๐ฅ๐ฌ๐ ๐๐ฅ๐ข๐ฏ๐
๐ฎ๐ผ๐๐๐ป๐พ๐ ๐ฃ๐ฉ, ๐ฃ๐ซ๐ฆ๐จ
๐ฃโ๐ ๐๐
๐๐๐พ,
๐จ ๐บ๐ฝ๐๐๐พ ๐๐๐, ๐๐๐พ๐พ๐๐๐พ๐บ๐๐.
I know how much you like to hear thatโI wrote it not only because you like itโI write it because it makes me warm, all over inside, to write it to you.
It indeed has been long since I wrote to youโalmost two years. But knowing you, Iโm sure youโll excuse me. You know how I am, my dear, so stubborn and realistic; and I thought there was no sense to writing.
But now I know, my darling wife, that it is right to do what I have delayed in doing, for I have done so much in the past. I want to tell you I love you. I want to love you. I always will love you.
If I were to be honest, I find it hard to understand, in my mind, what it means to love you after you are dead, yet I still want to comfort and take care of youโand I want you to love and take care for me as well.
I want to have problems to discuss with you, I want to do little projects with you, still. Never had it crossed my mind we could do that, to learn to make clothes togetherโor learn Chineseโor to get a movie projector.
Canโt I do something now? No. I am alone without you, my darling. You were the ideal woman, general instigator of all our wild adventures.
When you were sick, you worried you could not give me something that you wanted to, and thought I needed. You neednโt have worried. There was no real need, for I have loved you in so many ways, and I can see it clearly now, even more true.
You can give me nothing now, yet I love you so, that you stand in my way of loving anyone elseโbut at the same time, I want you there.
You, dead, are so much better than anyone else alive.
I know, you will assure me that I am foolish, that you want me to have full happiness, and you donโt want to stand in my way. Iโll bet you are surprised to know I donโt even have a girlfriend (except you, sweetheart) after two years.
But you canโt help it, darling, nor can IโI donโt understand it, for I have met many girls, very nice ones, evenโI donโt want to remain aloneโbut in two or three meetings they all seem ashes.
You only are left to me. You are real.
My darling, my wife, I do adore you.
My wife, whom I loved dearly, is dead.
Rich.
P.S. Please excuse me for not mailing this, my darling, I donโt know your new address.
Samael
Posted first in @SHllXUN
In rememberance of Scarlet Hellstrรธm
[Wednesday, November 11th, 2020. 04:09 AM.]
W/N: this writing's origin is a letter from Richard Feynmanโs letter to his departed wife, paraphrased accordingly to the writerโs interpretations.