Chapter 8
The Last Page of Maggie’s Letter
… You are forever somewhere else, even when you are right next to me.
It is important for me not to succumb to fantasy. I doubt I will even travel the world. I imagine I will be consumed with looking after my dad’s increasing needs back in Sheffield.
Anyway, this is not easy.
I know you think of me as strong, but I am not.
I feel as fragile as a leaf in the wind right now.
It seems like I have been holding my breath through this whole letter.
I feel if I exhale I will cry and never stop crying.
I know you went through a lot when you were younger, as did I. But we can’t be trapped by that for ever. I can’t fix you. I can’t even fix myself.
This is heartbreaking. But sometimes you have to let your heart break in order to stay alive.
I want you to understand that.
I want you to understand too that our love is always still there.
Can you remember my silly theory of art?
That people grow old around art but the art stays fresh?
Well, I think in a way that is true for memory.
I don’t know how to explain it but I like to believe we are still, somehow, at the theatre when you walked over to me.
Or on our wedding day. Or on our honeymoon.
Or looking up at the stars one drunken evening.
Or happy, pasting up wallpaper at Broomhill.
I love you, Wilbur.
But I am also leaving you.
I don’t know where the past hides, but I will meet you there.
Maggie
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