Disclaimer: No, I did not actually get this letter. I'm just pretending. Both Anne and Gilbert belong to L.M Montgomery. *sigh*
O Gilbert mine!
"Isn't that such a poetically romantic greeting, Gilbert? But true, thank goodness! I have been reading a book of Shakespearean sonnets, and when I came to that line 'Journeys end in lovers meeting' , my mind flew out to meet a certain medical student, poring over his tomes in Kingsport, wishing that this journey of time would go all the faster. I think you know him. Do you think he feels the same, Gilbert?
My pen today is absolutely lovely, Gilbert dear, so I'm going to make an attempt to put all those dreams on paper, which I dream when I watch the evening stars blink into existence and think of you. The stars seem to twinkle at me, calling out - Anne, Anne! Come, join us, and you can peep out of a cloud, and see HIM; and when he grows weary of his books, and looks out into the night, he will fly out to join you, and you can meet him here; unhindered by "barriers of time and distance", crowned king and queen of love in this kingdom of clouds and dreams. Will you come, Gilbert?
You know how much I love my "whims and fancies", as Mrs. Lynde calls them, and dreaming up beautiful air castles about the future, and I've been so happily surprised (I love beautiful surprises, don't you ? They seem like rewards for good deeds done with no expectations, only through the goodwill of our hearts) when so many of my dreams have come true in the past few years. But in one case, my dreams fell short of reality, for I could NEVER have dreamt of love, such as I have known, never have dreamt that I would have you. Does it not show then, that God has the best imagination of all?
It seems so silly now, to think of the type of hero I imagined for myself, in those childish days, with Diana. It was a hero truly, Gilbert, for he belonged in a book, with soulful, unfathomable eyes, who would go about saving the heroine from drastic situations and evil plots, who would recite beautiful, poetical speeches on all romantic occasions. But I don't want a hero now. I want that friend, who'll help me not to fall into scrapes, with whom I can share jokes and thoughts, with whom I will be comfortable. Comfortable seems such a plain, unromantic word, doesn't it, positively smacking of the mundane, lacking excitement? And yet, love is comfortable – full of that security, that all my faults and weaknesses, dreams and wishes, hopes and confidences are safe, are loved for themselves. Love is you.
Oh Gilbert, I am so uplifted with happiness sometimes, that I feel as if I would rise up in the air; made as airy and light as a feather by all the joys that fill me and lighten my heart! I am sure many would call it sinful to love a person as much as I love you, but it is involuntary; having started, I can no more control it than I can do breathing. I cannot, WILL not believe those who say that love is magical only in the beginning - I am sure I will feel the same wonder, the same joy, when I look at your dear face sixty years hence, darling, as when I look at you now; and feel the same possessive thrill, that you are mine.
Do you remember that time last winter, when we strolled down Lovers Lane, and you asked me why I blushed suddenly? A thought, another vista had dawned upon me as I saw all those places I'd named with Di all those years ago; it was too new a thought ,then, for me to share with you without feeling "as shy as a newly-wed bride".As I saw those haunts of childish minds, that sanctum of young hopes and dreams, it seemed to me that a curly brown-haired, green eyed, little girl danced gaily in the path before us, while a red-haired, hazel eyed boy of tender years teased her by pulling her braid. Those two have followed me to Windy Poplars; I see them when I look at my mischievous students, laughing and playing; and I see you beside me, as I go through classes, sweetly and patiently supporting me as I help these minds grow. I still have grand dreams for some of my students, Gilbert, but greater dreams for those two children of my mind; and with these dreams we'll adorn our house of dreams when the time comes, and our lives become one. How I long for that day, dear heart!
Yours,yours and ONLY yours,
Anne Shirley(Soon-to-be-Blythe)
A/N: It's been quite some time since I read Windy Poplars, so forgive me if this has come somewhere in the original...Please review and tell me what you think!
Thanks so much for those beautiful reviews! :) It made me so happy to know that others out there felt the same things while reading this,as I'd felt while writing it. :)