Dearest Catherine,
When you first came into my life, I felt I'd been born into a new world, a world I had only read about in books, one that only lived in my imagination. For a moment I believed in that world, in all its possiblities, A door had opened where none existed, All this came through you... so many feelings
that were once only words, now rush through me. I cannot yet describe them. All at once, they startled me, sometimes frighten me, but always fill me with wonder and gratitude...
But how can such happiness bring me such pain? How could I have forgotten that, though the door had opened, I could not pass through it? For me, all that was possible was to stand at the threshold and watch.
Please know that I only want your happiness. And yet, the feelings I felt, of you with another, poisioned all that was right and good. I know what I am. I accept what I am. This envy was a stranger to me. Now it lives within me, mocks me. In every fiber of my being, I struggle to control it. Yet, if I do, what have I won?
Still, I am standing at the treshold, watching, longing for a life that can never be, How can I be part of you when I know you must be part of someone else? I've lost my way, Catherine. How can we continue? The way is filled with peril. Do we endure what surly lies ahead?
And yet, the thought of never seeing you again is unthinkable, I said to you that someday, someone would come, and you would live another life and dream another dream. When that day comes, I will rejoice for you. But I am not now... strong enough to do that, Perhaps, I am thinking only of myself, but I must, or this poison called envy will engulf me.
There is a place in my world called the Chamber of the Falls. Someday, perhaps, you will see it. It is the most beautiful place I know. The sound of rushing water soothes me. I go there often to think.
Catherine, I do not know when I will see you again.
I've always told you to follow your heart. Now I must search to find the strength to follow my own.
"They are not long, the days of wine and roses. Out of a misty dream, our path emerges for a while, then closes, within a dream."
Sleep well, my dearest Catherine, sleep well.
Vincent
