Downton, December 20, 1925
Oh Mary,
I wish I would have the courage to send this letter (I know I won't) and I wish I wouldn't need to be drunk to even write it (but I am).
Tonight was a beautiful evening. It was so good to talk to you and clear the air between us. I'm incredibly glad we're friends again, but at the same time it makes it all even harder and so when I went to bed, the warm feeling I had all evening, turned into complete despair, hence the Whiskey and hence this pathetic letter that you'll never see.
When did it happen, Mary? When did I start seeing you differently?
I can't even name the exact time, but somehow it has happened. Somehow, without me even noticing at first, you became more and more special to me to a degree, that I can't bear the thought of ever not being near to you.
When I went to America, I knew I was going to miss you, as I thought of you as my dearest friend, but nothing could have prepared me for the longing I felt as soon as I was away.
I tried to tell myself, that it is just a special connection, because you understand me in a way, that no one else does. You know how it is to lose the big love of your life, you've been through the same hell as I have been, so it is natural that we share a special bond!
But the more I try to tell myself, that it is friendship or "brotherly" love, that I feel for you, the more it gets clearer to me, that my feelings are far beyond friendship and far from "brotherly".
Why can't I love a woman like Charlotte Halford instead of you? I tried, I really did. She is beautiful, smart, progressive, everything that always attracted me in women and yet...
… it's not her face I see when I close my eyes, not her skin that I long to touch or her lips that I want to kiss. It's you. I want you so much, it hurts and it's driving me crazy to know, that you're only three doors down the hall...
Oh God, I'm sorry. I told you, I've had too much Whiskey and I'm frustrated. I know, we cleared the air about it, but to see you flirt with Henry Talbot last week made me so jealous. I really want you to be happy, Mary, I really do, but does it have to be him? He doesn't appreciate you the way I do. I doesn't know the real Mary and I'm sure I know her! She's loyal, honest, brave and she loves deeply. Once you know her, you can't help it, but love her and Henry Talbot doesn't! He sees you as a diversion or some trophy. He doesn't deserve you!
I'm not jealous of Matthew and I know you never would be jealous of Sybil. I still love her as much as I loved her all those years while I admired her from afar at first and then while we were married. And I know you will love Matthew for the rest of your days. I saw you two together, who happy you were and how well matched.
I was afraid once, that if I fell in love again, it would take some of my love for Sybil away and so I was determined not to allow this to happen. But how wrong I was! My love for Sybil didn't get any smaller by falling in love with you, it's more like my heart got bigger. Love is amazing, there's room for you and her in my heart and it doesn't lessen my feelings for each of you.
But I know it is impossible. You always were the "proud" one among the sisters. You have the responsibility to marry well for George's sake and I know you're determined to do so. I can't tell you how I feel, even though I do get the feeling sometimes, that you feel more than friendship for me, too! But is it all wishful thinking?
I can't risk everything. If I told you how I felt, it would change everything. I'm working class, I'm Irish and Catholic. You are not Sybil, who resented her life as an Aristocrat, instead I know you embrace it and you want the best for your son.
But I love you. The truth is, that I'm madly in love with you and that I can't help it! I know we could be so happy, Mary. You and I and Sybbie and George. It is just a dream?
What shall I do? I'm dreaming of a sign. That you somehow show me, that you believe in us, too.
Yours forever
Tom
