Dear Gilbert,
I look like my mother.
The fiery red hair and the freckles are from her. I used to find my freckles homely but now I think I sort of like them. If only because it makes me feel connected to her. Her name was Bertha Shirley and my father Walter loved us very much. Gilbert, can you believe she was a teacher? I never dreamed I could be so much like her. It makes me wonder how else we're alike. Do we have the same smile? The same laugh? Or is that from my father? Even though I'll never know the answer to those questions I'm very content in what I do know, and I have Matthew and Marilla to thank for this marvelous gift. After our most wonderous goodbye they brought me a book that belonged to my mother. It was a gift from my father, and it resided in the very first home I stayed in after they died. It's a book about flowers, and I vow to memorize every word.
I miss Green Gables terribly. I miss being awakened by Marilla every morning to help with breakfast. The open landscape and the fresh crisp morning air. Here everywhere you look there is architecture. I miss the trees and the quietness. There is constant noise here. I never thought I, Anne from Green Gables, would be complaining about noise. And yet here I am. Avonlea is a magical place I will always call home. The magic comes from the people. I will make Matthew and Marilla proud, even though a large part of me wants to catch the next train and stay at Green Gables forever.
I am over the moon that my bosom friend Diana is here to join our adventures in Queens. I was worried for her when I thought I was leaving her behind. Her spirit seemed to be broken and I couldn't fix it. I am much obliged her parents changed their minds, I feel if Diana had gone to Paris, she never would have been the same again.
I owe you an apology Gilbert. You left me a letter in my room and in my anger, I destroyed it without reading it, and now I simply must know what it said. I left you a letter too. In that letter I bared my heart to you. Why didn't you come to me? If even to just tell me you'd changed your mind? I have so many questions. I saw Winnie in town and as I attempted to congratulate her on your engagement, she seemed angry, she'd thought I'd come to gloat. I would never do such a thing, and I simply had no idea what she was talking about. And then she told me, about your unrequited love, and I just had to let you know it wasn't unrequited. Suddenly there you were. I have loved you for a very long time, although I didn't realize it was love until after you were engaged to Winnie. I'd always hoped for a tragical romance, an unrequited love. But now I realize that a tragical romance is nothing but sorrow. I could go on when I thought you didn't love me, when I thought you were marrying the girl of your dreams. A girl that wasn't me. But even though I went on there was a heaviness in my heart every time I remembered, every time I thought about you. Now all feel is absolute giddiness and joy when I think about you.
I have to ask. Why me? Although I'm exceptionally glad, I can't help but wonder. When did you know? For me I can't say there was an exact moment. In fact, I don't think I even noticed it happening. You made the butterflies in my stomach come to life, but I just didn't know why I was feeling that way. And then one day it just came to me. One day I realized I, Anne with an E, was in love with Gilbert Blythe. For so long I was not allowed to feel even friendship towards you it felt exhilarating to say out loud.
I'm sorry for the length of this letter. I've had such a wonderous day I couldn't wait to tell you about it, although now I feel like I've said too much. I hope you made it to U of T safely and are comfortable in your new room. I shall check the post every single day for your response.
With love,
Anne