My dear Tim,
I was asked who you were to me this week. For the first time in 18 years, I managed to explain your accidental death and our relationship in only a few lines. I spoke with clarity, tenderness, and honesty.
Thank you for always seeing me… in an ocean of people. You said it was impossible not to. You would be surprised.
I’m sorry for the decision I made for you. Forgive me. A Swan on water.
No more regrets Timmy.
Wench x
PS. I recall the day you recited this to me. It took me by surprise.
She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellow’d to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o’er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.
And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent.– Lord Byron
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