A Letter From The One Who Stands Out [Hamilton]

Signed, Elise Sanders

Dear Alexander,

It's been two weeks since that horrible ball my mother dragged me too. I don't recall telling you why we were there without my "father". He left us without a word a few days previously. My mother knew she couldn't support herself and me without a husband. That's how you came to find me sitting alone, rejecting every man who approached me for a dance. When you approached me, I tried to reject you too. But your persistence caused the acceptance of a simple conversation; the same one that lasted the rest of the night. Talking of the revolution, hobbies, each other, traditions, and more. The night seemed too young when the ball ended. But, even so, we parted.

We've met again many times since that night and our conversations grew to jokes and, in my mind, we grew quite close. I regard you as the closest friend I've had since my family sailed over from France all those years ago. But it seems that I can't help those feelings from growing and changing. 

I'm sorry if this seems abrupt but it's a change that hurts. I've never felt this way about anyone, especially since I never wanted to be courted. You've known this. I wanted to be like you; on the front lines of the war, side by side with my fellow colonists, defending our home from the British. Those goals have never changed. But I must apologize. This entire letter has been skirting around the subject I've been meaning to get to. It is a difficult subject to discussed, however. But you know my fondness for being direct. So I'll speak straight.

I'm in love with you, Alexander. I'm in love with your brilliant mind, your insane ideas, your charisma, your energy, your passion, your love for the country we call home, your dedication to your work, the bonds you maintain with your friends, everything that could be said about you; Even your flaws. I am prepared to accept the denial, though.

I'm eagerly awaiting your response.

Signed, Elise Sanders.