Dear Flo,
If you are reading this, I have done what I set out to do.
As I am writing this, it is night. Only, my nights and days have blended into hours that cannot seem to pass quickly enough. The time I spend awake feels heavy, soaked in thoughts that I can't put into words, and the time I spend asleep, though scarce, is torturous.
I will my heavy eyelids to remain open for as long as they possibly can, resisting the urge to shut my eyes and drift off. Because I know that once I do, I'll see you again. You'll be right there, in front of me, faded like the glare on a window, or apart like water in a vase. These things make sense to me, and I can only hope that they make sense to you too.
I know it's not really you though, and that's the worst part. You're haunting me Florence. You've always haunted me, but it's worse now than it was before. Because I used to know that the worst of it would be over when I woke up, I'd forget the dream and go see you. But now, waking up is worse.
That's what happened tonight. That's what woke me up. That's why I'm writing this letter.
Because I can't live like this Flo.
I leave for London in the morning, I've decided that just now. There are some people I need to talk to who I think might be able to help me. I don't know how long it will take, and whether or not it's even possible, but I need to at least try. And if you're reading this letter, wherever you are, then that means it worked.
Enclosed in the envelope you received is a contract. I had it specially written for you.
I don't want to own you Flo, even just the thought of it feels wrong. It was ignorant of me to ask that of you, I know that now. And If I could go back, I wouldn't have asked. Not until I'd done this.
Things have been unfair for you. I've been unfair to you. And I've seen it on your face enough times to know that that's how you feel. There are things people want for you and from you, that you yourself don't want. But you don't owe anyone anything and I need for you to know that.
The marriage contract is official, entirely legal, and completely yours. It states that both parties remain in possession of their belongings, both physical and financial. It also grants you all the liberties that I've had all my life. The law can only be pushed so far and so things would have to remain under my name, but I'd give them all to you, to keep.
Nothing has to change Flo. We could be together the way we were before, but we wouldn't have to hide it. I'm not going to turn into someone else, if that's what you're afraid of. I won't make you do things you don't want to do. Never.
And if you want to leave everything behind and disappear, I can only ask that you take me with you. I'm being serious, I'd do it. At risk of sounding ungrateful and blinded by privilege, I can confidently say that you mean more to me than everything I have. You are the most important person in my life, and have been since we were little.
I'm asking you to marry me because it's what I want. Not because it's what is expected of me. Not because it's the natural course of action or what everyone else is doing. But because I want to be with you in body, and in name.
I want to appear beside you in every photograph. My signature next to yours on every invitation, document, and Christmas letter. I want to lie next to you every night until the day that I die. And you can call me morbid, but I want to know that I'll be buried beside you when the time comes. With 'loving husband' written on my gravestone.
Theres one more contract. This one grants you the freedoms of widowhood. You'd assume all responsibilities of both parties without requiring a spouse.
I don't want you to feel like I'm giving you an ultimatum. Like you either pick me, or suffer with someone else. I've had this contract made so that you have the option not to marry if it isn't want you want in life. You could be independent, self sufficient and successful. And whatever decision you make, I'll understand.
But if you do choose the latter, and seize the opportunity to take a hold of your life, please come back to say goodbye. I won't try to change your mind or convince you to stay. I've done enough of that in this letter already. I just want to see you, desperately.
They've finished building the greenhouse. I've filled it with every flower that screams 'Florence'. Freesias and Irises. Baby's breath and Hyacinths. I'm there every night, when I can't sleep. And I'll be heading there once I've written this letter.
I want for you to see it, at least once. I want you to stand in it, knowing that it's yours. I'm giving it to you, it has your name. When I'm there, I'm on your turf. And that's as close to you as I can be at the moment.
I gave you the letter that your father gave me because that's yours as well. It concerns you, it affects your life. I read it, I took it to heart, but you should have it. Because your answer matters more than my question.
I've heard you say no before, and I understand why you said it. I don't agree with the system. I don't agree with the way that people have built things. I don't agree with what they expect of you. I don't agree with any of it. I never have.
But we could waste the rest of our lives on the estate and I'd be completely content. The way we would on rare days when we were younger. When there was no-one around to tell us what to do or where to go.
I think about that day more often than I'd like to admit. Last summer, when everyone else left.
It must have been the longest day of my life, and felt like it too when I lived it. I never planned for it to end the way it did. And knowing I was going to leave before sunrise, I shouldn't have done it. But the moment I saw you that morning, all plans I'd had to leave just fell from my mind.
I wasn't drunk. If anything, I was more aware of my surroundings than I usually was. Everything felt like it was floating around in the air and simultaneously being kept a secret. The day felt endless, undefined.
I lost myself in you that day, when everything happened. I couldn't think about anything but the fact that you were there, and you felt for me the way I felt for you. I should have stopped, I should have told you, but I was losing my mind Flo.
There are plenty of things I've done that I'm not proud of, and that was one of them. But I don't want you to think that I regret it. It wasn't the right time, or under the right circumstances, and I know that. Believe me, I know that.
But it was with you, and that I don't regret.
I want a million more of those nights. A million more days under the sun, in the snow. A million more days with you. You aren't here and all I can do is imagine you, waking up, writing, walking, breathing. Even now, I imagine you reading this. My voice, in your head. Your eyes, on my words.
You deserve everything Florence. I know you don't always believe it but it's true. There are things you don't have, privileges you don't get, not because you aren't deserving of them, but because the world has been wrong is wrong. You can't see yourself as what you've been given because you are so much more.
And I'm trying my best not to sound tacky but I can't think of another way to put it. You deserve to be happy. I've filled this letter with things that I want. And you know by now that what I want is you. So I might sound like I'm contradicting myself when I tell you not to listen to any of it.
Do whatever it is with your life that you want. Own whatever you want. Be whatever you want. Go wherever you want. Spend it with whoever you want.
Buy a house, burn it down. Run through fields, climb to the tops of the tallest trees. You can cross whatever ocean, travel any road. Do whatever job and learn whatever skill. Read any and every book, tell every last story. See the corners of the world and give pets ridiculous names. Have twelve children, or have none at all.
Fall in love with someone, get married. Even if that person isn't me.
But if it is, I want you to know that I'll still be here, waiting for you. Whether you come home tomorrow, or after having done all of the above, I'll be right here. You could take a lifetime to make your way back, and I'd still be here. I love you, you know that.
Don't feel bad for making me wait. There's nothing else I'd rather be doing.
-T