September 3rd, 1899
Dear Gilbert,
I look like my mother...
Oh, the most wonderful thing transpired as soon as you left this afternoon! How I wish you could have stayed just a few minutes longer. After our blissful kisses, I felt as if I could cling to you forever.
Shortly after you took your leave, my darling Matthew and Marilla brought me the most precious gift I have ever received. It was a book that belonged to my mother. Just imagine Gilbert! Many years ago, this book that I received was once held in the very hands of my mother. Just the thought of it brings me such jubilant joy!
The book was entitled 'the language of flowers'. Isn't that name just an absolutely scrumptious thing to say? Inside the book, dates were written by my parents containing different events that we did together as a family. On July 13th, they took me on my very first picnic. They loved me Gilbert! I can say that with confidence now. I've longed for so long for some sort of confirmation that they loved me, and look what destiny has laid upon me!And on another page, March 4th, my birthday, they labeled it as 'the most wonderful day of our lives, our beautiful baby Anne has come into the world.'
At the very back of the book, there was a portrait of my mother that was drawn by my father. Words simply cannot describe how beautiful she was, Gilbert! She had a slender nose, (that very much resembles my own.) She had long luscious lashes, her lips formed into a sweet smile. And my dimples! I have my mothers dimples! They've always been one of the few of my most prized possessions, but now it brings me much more delight and pride to know that I share them with her.
And the most wonderful thing of all-- she had red hair, Gilbert! I inherited my red hair from her. And my freckles were my mother's as well. How I wish that I had known, that all these years, these sixteen years of my life that have been yearning to know something of my parents, that I have been carrying my mother around with me, this whole time.
And, may I add, I no longer have any hate nor annoyance about my features, as I now realize that they are all gifts from my darling mother.
Oh, Gilbert I miss you so. As for my follow up questions, (and be warned, I do have quite many.) Why didn't you respond to my note? That is why I had approached you that day at Miss Stacey's when we got our entrance exams results. As you had nothing to say, I was devastated, but I accepted your decision, and if you could never care for me the way I hoped, I couldn't hold that against you. But now that I know of your feelings, I am still quite confounded about our lack of communication.
Another question that I have, a question that I'm sorry to say that I'm embarrassed to ask-- what did the letter you left me say? I'm afraid that when I first encountered your letter in my bedroom I tore it up in rage and threw it out my bedroom window. I'm very much regretting this rash decision now...
Oh Gilbert, l long to see you again, even though we've only just said our farewells this afternoon. I long to be in your arms, to kiss you, (and where did you learn to kiss like that, Gilbert Blythe?) I am so sorrowful about how short our meeting was today. But I really am just so thankful that you showed up here at all, at the doorstep of my boarding house. I was on my way to find you actually. I had my suitcase all ready and packed for a trip to Avonlea because I had just received the news that you had broken off your courtship and expected engagement, from Winifred whom I met in the streets of Charlottetown.
I wish you the best of luck at the U of T, and I want you to know that I am so proud of you for getting accepted there. When you told me where you were going this afternoon I could see that you were simply glowing with pride. Gilbert, I dearly wish I could kiss each of your cheeks, and that splendid chin of yours. I wish that I still had my hands tucked inside of yours. I felt so safe. So loved.
It's late now, and the first day of classes begins tomorrow. My dearest Diana is already snoring so I suppose I should head to bed as well. I will think of you in my slumber Gilbert Blythe.
I love you.
Yours, forever and a day,
Anne
P.S Thank you kindly for returning my pen.