Author's note: For those of you following this story who would like to read
all that has been written so far in its entirety (up until October 1793),
the diary can be found in full at:
If anyone *does* venture over, please take a moment to use the "contact" feature to let me know what you think? Thanks :-)
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Today was spent at home relaxing after the activity of the last few days and it has been most pleasant. We all rose late and I passed most of the afternoon working on my needlepoint again. It is the most ambitious project I have undertaken yet, and I hope, if it turns out well enough, to give it to William and Caroline as a gift when I leave. I do not know if it will be completed by then, but I will try my hardest. Anyway it will hardly be a chore, it is a very agreeable way to spend ones time and there is a great deal to be said for the satisfaction that is gained from finishing a piece. I have developed quite a taste for such work of late and will certainly look to do more in the future than I have done previously. There was, unfortunately though something which marred my enjoyment of the day somewhat, and although I know that I am being foolish, I cannot help dwelling on the matter.
Spending time together as we did this afternoon has given me the opportunity to see a little into the life of my brother and his wife, and what I noted has left me feeling both unsettled and yearning for something that I did not even realise I wanted until this moment. They love each other very much, it is clear in everything they do, each word, each look, each gesture. Caroline positively dotes upon him and I can see in his eyes that he does not object in the slightest to being petted so. Quite to the contrary in fact, as I am sure that he enjoys her gentle dedication as much as she clearly treasures the attentions he showers upon her, however small or insignificant they may appear to an ignorant observer. It is not a sickly clinging love though, they plainly trust each other and are secure enough in their relationship to allow the other to do as they need and want without trying to control or restrain them. The room was filled with it, a gentle sweet lovingness that made me almost want to weep with a longing for the same that I did not even know I was feeling until then. But really there is nothing more lonely than being a mere onlooker to such a bond, knowing that you can never be a part of it however much you may long to be. I know they did not mean to make it so, but I could not help feeling as if I were an intruder, an interloper into their quiet blissful existence and seeing things that I had no business to be witnessing. I made my excuses and went up to bed early, unable to look upon such perfection any longer.
Will I ever feel for another person what they so clearly feel for each other? I do not know, but I cannot help craving the chance to experience such happiness, such joy as can be found when you discover the one person you are meant to be with, who will love you for and despite what you are and who desires nothing better than to be in your company. I do not want to spend my life alone, or worse, in a loveless marriage that will bring only sorrow. I only want to love and to be loved in return, surely it cannot be too much to hope for?
If anyone *does* venture over, please take a moment to use the "contact" feature to let me know what you think? Thanks :-)
**************
Today was spent at home relaxing after the activity of the last few days and it has been most pleasant. We all rose late and I passed most of the afternoon working on my needlepoint again. It is the most ambitious project I have undertaken yet, and I hope, if it turns out well enough, to give it to William and Caroline as a gift when I leave. I do not know if it will be completed by then, but I will try my hardest. Anyway it will hardly be a chore, it is a very agreeable way to spend ones time and there is a great deal to be said for the satisfaction that is gained from finishing a piece. I have developed quite a taste for such work of late and will certainly look to do more in the future than I have done previously. There was, unfortunately though something which marred my enjoyment of the day somewhat, and although I know that I am being foolish, I cannot help dwelling on the matter.
Spending time together as we did this afternoon has given me the opportunity to see a little into the life of my brother and his wife, and what I noted has left me feeling both unsettled and yearning for something that I did not even realise I wanted until this moment. They love each other very much, it is clear in everything they do, each word, each look, each gesture. Caroline positively dotes upon him and I can see in his eyes that he does not object in the slightest to being petted so. Quite to the contrary in fact, as I am sure that he enjoys her gentle dedication as much as she clearly treasures the attentions he showers upon her, however small or insignificant they may appear to an ignorant observer. It is not a sickly clinging love though, they plainly trust each other and are secure enough in their relationship to allow the other to do as they need and want without trying to control or restrain them. The room was filled with it, a gentle sweet lovingness that made me almost want to weep with a longing for the same that I did not even know I was feeling until then. But really there is nothing more lonely than being a mere onlooker to such a bond, knowing that you can never be a part of it however much you may long to be. I know they did not mean to make it so, but I could not help feeling as if I were an intruder, an interloper into their quiet blissful existence and seeing things that I had no business to be witnessing. I made my excuses and went up to bed early, unable to look upon such perfection any longer.
Will I ever feel for another person what they so clearly feel for each other? I do not know, but I cannot help craving the chance to experience such happiness, such joy as can be found when you discover the one person you are meant to be with, who will love you for and despite what you are and who desires nothing better than to be in your company. I do not want to spend my life alone, or worse, in a loveless marriage that will bring only sorrow. I only want to love and to be loved in return, surely it cannot be too much to hope for?