My dear Friend,The important step is taken,and I am virtually a free man.What had I better do in these circumstances?I dare not write to her,I dare not write to her father,or else I would.She has shot me through with poisoned arrows,and I think another "winged wound "would finish me.It is a pleasant sort of balm (as you express it)she has left in my heart!One thing I agree with you in,it will remain there for ever;but yet not very long.It festers,and consumes me.If it were not for my little boy,whose face I see struck blank at the news,looking through the world for pity and meeting with contempt instead,I should soon,I fear,settle the question by my death.That recollection is the only thought that brings my wandering reason to an anchor;that stirs the smallest interest in me;or gives me fortitude to bear up against what I am doomed to feel for the ungrateful.Otherwise,I am dead to every thing but the sense of what I have lost.She was my life--it is gone from me,and I am grown spectral!If I find myself in a place I am acquainted with,it reminds me of her,of the way in which I thought of her,--"and carved on every tree The soft,the fair,the inexpressive she!"If it is a place that is new to me,it is desolate,barren of all interest;for nothing touches me but what has a reference to her.If the clock strikes,the sound jars me;a million of hours will not bring back peace to my breast.The light startles me;the darkness terrifies me.
I seem falling into a pit,without a hand to help me.She has deceived me,and the earth fails from under my feet;no object in nature is substantial,real,but false and hollow,like her faith on which I built my trust.She came (I knew not how)and sat by my side and was folded in my arms,a vision of love and joy,as if she had dropped from the Heavens to bless me by some especial dispensation of a favouring Providence,and make me amends for all;and now without any fault of mine but too much fondness,she has vanished from me,and I am left to perish.My heart is torn out of me,with every feeling for which I wished to live.The whole is like a dream,an effect of enchantment;it torments me,and it drives me mad.I lie down with it;I rise up with it;and see no chance of repose.I grasp at a shadow,I try to undo the past,and weep with rage and pity over my own weakness and misery.
I spared her again and again (fool that I was)thinking what she allowed from me was love,friendship,sweetness,not wantonness.How could I doubt it,looking in her face,and hearing her words,like sighs breathed from the gentlest of all bosoms?I had hopes,I had prospects to come,the flattery of something like fame,a pleasure in writing,health even would have come back with her smile--she has blighted all,turned all to poison and childish tears.Yet the barbed arrow is in my heart--I can neither endure it,nor draw it out;for with it flows my life's-blood.I had conversed too long with abstracted truth to trust myself with the immortal thoughts of love.THAT S.L.MIGHT HAVE BEENMINE,AND NOW NEVER CAN--these are the two sole propositions that for ever stare me in the face,and look ghastly in at my poor brain.I am in some sense proud that I can feel this dreadful passion--it gives me a kind of rank in the kingdom of love--but I could have wished it had been for an object that at least could have understood its value and pitied its excess.You say her not coming to the door when you went is a proof--yes,that her complement is at present full!That is the reason she doesn't want me there,lest I should discover the new affair--wretch that I am!Another has possession of her,oh Hell!I'm satisfied of it from her manner,which had a wanton insolence in it.Well might I run wild when I received no letters from her.I foresaw,I felt my fate.
The gates of Paradise were once open to me too,and I blushed to enter but with the golden keys of love!I would die;but her lover--my love of her--ought not to die.When I am dead,who will love her as I have done?If she should be in misfortune,who will comfort her?when she is old,who will look in her face,and bless her?Would there be any harm in calling upon M----,to know confidentially if he thinks it worth my while to make her an offer the instant it is in my power?Let me have an answer,and save me,if possible,FOR her and FROM myself.
