I sit here, in the same place, staring at your grave, but not really seeing it, my eyes glazed, looking beyond this cold block of stone to a once animated body.
Of course, the person I see now exists only in my memories and the memories of those who survived that remember.
Wars are terrible, and at the same time very great things.
They tear families apart and bring communities together; they sever ties and create new ones. Men fight in wars because they want to protect what it is that they are fighting for, they fight because they want to. That is the essential point.
I know that you did not want to fight.
I know that you fought for duty, and the upholding of a reputation, rather than because you really believed in the reason you were killing innocent men.
The cause of our war was lost before we started fighting.
There is a gaping hole inside of me that no one can ever fill again. I know, and I cherish the fact that you loved me, I am trying to bring Beau up the way you would have wanted, to be a gentleman, to respect his elders and his equals.
I have taught him that everyone; black or white, is an equal now.
But to me they always were anyway.
I present the same face everyday, carefully controlled, I know I look ill, black is the colour of everything I own now, and I shall mourn your passing until my own.
You would hate me for saying so, Ashley, but it's times like these when I wish I was more like Scarlett. She is so beautiful, so strong and full of life. I am in awe of her and I am afraid for her.
Afraid that she will never learn to open her eyes and see what is right there in front of her.
Rhett Butler loves her very dearly, Ashley, I see it when he speaks of her, he loves her the way I love you.
He is a good man, but he is too impatient, too brash and too callous. That is why he is avoided. But he loved Bonnie, loves her still I think, and there must be a great deal of good in a man able to love a child so much.
That is why I shall never deny him entrance to our home.
Because a tombstone means nothing.
Time is a beautiful thing. It heals wounds.
I do not wish you to be with me, Ashley, and I do not wish that I could join you. I know you could never forgive me if I took my own life, and there is still so much good in the world. I would like to think I can add to that.
Uncle Henry is dead now, Scarlett was angry at his passing, I think she was more dependant on him than she cares to admit. And Aunt Pitty, she passed last year, peacefully, in her sleep.
I still think of you often, but there are other things that occupy my thoughts too, Scarlett, for instance. Did she love you, Ashley? I know she was fond of you, but the stories India told, were they merely catty remarks? I like to believe they were. I find it so difficult to think back of Scarlett, after all that she did for me, she is a dear, sweet girl, and at heart I think she just wants her mother, someone to depend on, to run too with the scrapes on her knees.
Her Mammy is gone too.
My thoughts wander back to the block of cold marble that is your only marker.
It seems silly that a square stone could symbolise your life, the few words engraved upon it are true, but I don't like the way they sound.
'Here Lies Ashley John Wilkes
He Left This World Fighting For the Preservation of All He Held Dear,
He Will Be Mourned By Many, Forgotten By None.
Rest in Peace'
The words are true, but they mean little when they have been inscribed on so many other gravestones, describing so many other brave men that died for our cause.
I believe the cause is not as noble as we tried to make it, I believe that fighting for the continuation of slavery was something that should not have been done, I know many of us depended on our slaves for money, clothing and food, but I believe they ought to have been paid back.
Fighting for slavery is not noble.
Our slaves should not have been our slaves; they ought to have been given the choice to work. Segregation is wrong, so is the idea that poor whites are worthless.
People are what they make themselves.
There is no helping some of them.
I ought to go. Uncle Peter's son, Laurent, should be bringing Beau back from Rhett and Scarlett's, Rhett is teaching him to ride.
Goodbye Ashley.
I will always love you.
Author's Note : A Gone With The Wind Fic. In case you didn't realise that. It's my first and probably not all that good, but pointers would be nice (hint-hint) Please review.
xx