5/6/1800
Constant,
If you are receiving this letter, then it means I have passed. I have been ill for a couple of weeks. After I left your house I got quite sick. I wish I could tell you what it is. Constant, I will miss you the most out of anyone. I never told you of my weak health in the first place because I would not want to add to your worry. Now, I'm afraid that I have. I suppose I will address a few concerns of yours before I leave you. I do feel the same you feel for me, and I need you to be certain of that. Your love is appreciated, and not unrequited. If only we lived in a different time, a different place, then we could have- I have so little time for all this frivolous writing. I will only speak briefly of the several concerns you may have. What am I ill with? I wish I knew. Are you ill now because of me? Probably not, you have a strong tolerance for sickness. If you are, I apologize deeply, more than I can ever say. Constant, my Dear Friend, I do think that you will be at heaven when your time does come. You are the best person I have gotten to know. I fear that I will forget worries of yours, and that I will leave you with no happiness because I fail to address them. Please, when you do remember me, mon amour, smile about that. Those few good times, I hope, will override the strife and the strain and the stress. Please try your best to keep our letters in one piece. I know you would rip them to shreds in a fit of spontaneous rage, but I do urge you not to. You will want to read them over again. I will have someone give you the letters you have sent to me. Sort them. Then you will have some of our best conversations to look back on. I am running out of paper. Let me guess what your reply would be. "Oh Etienne! Your handwriting has gotten so much better!" "You are still making mistakes," perhaps? I will miss you the most Constant. But please, for my sake, move on, and be merry. Please do not cry. I have worried you, know, haven't I? I don't want to stop writing.
Forever and always yours,
Etienne Jay
YOU ARE READING
The Letters
Historical FictionConstant Matthews, a rich man in the 19th century, decides to contact his dearest friend, Etienne Jay, who immigrated from France to America, to speak of normal matters.
