A Lack of Understanding

2nd August, 1919.

Tell me something real

Tell me something true

I just want to feel there's something left that I can do

~ King of the World, First Aid Kit.

...

It doesn't matter anymore.

Not that it mattered in the first place.

It was never going to work anyway, it was hopeless, naïve, reckless, stupid, insane.

But not to me, not to you, not to the people that mattered.

Susanah knows, she knows about the photojournalism, my ambitions, the letters.

She knows about you...

No, she knows about Us.

And I thought that they could never tear us apart. But I thought I could just leave, I thought I could be with you I thought that none of it would ever matter.

But is does, to everyone else.

This is it, isn't it? The dawn will bring the questions. The week will bring a blended knee. A month, a ring.

But it will be traitorous because it wouldn't be yours.

A lifetime of being someone elses' wife.

Callous retribution.

My emotions have been brutally laid bare to myself, and James, I've realised something. I have been friends with you for five years, and along the way have done the unthinkable.

I fell in love with someone who society would deem beneath me.

I love you.

It was always you.

With all the love that I put in writing,

Francesca Percival (why keep it a secret, soon everyone will know.)

I'm a coward aren't I.