A lettter from Arielle-"About Love, Freedom and Responsibility"

Ryder 2022-01-15 08:02:27

I started working when I was 11.By 25,I could feel the end of my career coming.I tought"what happens now?"what will be my life".I was terrified.And so I made an error of youth.Some of the girls were lucky.They had fallen in love, but not me.Not once.Even though I had been all over the world and I had meet everyone.That spring,I was introduced to Valery.He was then just as he is now.Solid,substantial.And good."The salt of Earth"As American like to say.I felt a great affection for him.A great respect.That is a kind of love.I thought it was the only kind I would ever now.I didn't believe enough.I didn't believe in love.

8 years later,I discovered that I should have.It has stunned me this now happiness, which come out of nowhere.This secret door has opened in me.I have never felt so alive as when I am in your arms.It is temping ,so temping to forget about everything.And just accept this gift.

But I cannot.And not because I didn't believe that you could be marvelous stepfather to Marc and Elodie.And wouderful father to the children we might have had together.Not because of lifestyle or the difference in our ages or the opinion of others.When Valery and I married, we wrote our own vows"I will hold your heart more tenderly than my own"He has always kept his promise and I feel I must keep mine.

But it's more than a matter of honor.One day,Brian,when you have children,you will understand that to leave them is to leave yourself .And to injure them,unthinkable.I told you,I'm an old-fashioned girl .Please do not try to contact me.It will not change evything.I am so sad to say goodbye.To be parted.I can't believe it ,really.

We had so many adventures still ahead of us. Maybe if we had had more time, I would have found something about you I didn't like, really couldn't stand, which would be very useful right now.But I doubt it. They say that no love is perfect.But them,they never met you. I started working when I was 11.By 25,I could feel the end of my career coming.I tought"what happens now?"what will be my life ".I was terrified.And so I made an error of youth.Some of the girls were lucky.They had fallen in love, but not me.Not once.Even though I had been all over the world and I had meet everyone. That spring,I was introduced to Valery.He was then just as he is now.Solid,substantial.And good."The salt of Earth"As American like to say.I felt a great affection for him.A great respect.That is a kind of love.I thought it was the only kind I would ever now.I didn't believe enough.I didn't believe in love.

————Arielle

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Extended Reading
  • Coralie 2022-03-28 09:01:09

    All love stories, all dialogues, when you write them, there is a person in your heart, who is this person?

  • Francisco 2022-03-23 09:03:01

    The dream of Mary Sue of the American male literary youth, the fantasy of love should be both beautiful and unusual, and finally ushered in a double harvest of career and love with a little almost perfect regret. I was deceived by the title of 5-7, and I was also deceived into tears. Wen Qing's illness should be cured.

5 to 7 quotes

  • Brian: [in his book] Thousands of years ago, somebody came up with the idea of impermanence of the beauty and inevitability of change. I'm pretty sure they had just been dumped.

    Brian: I had a long time to consider the value of memory, and the idea that just because something doesn't last forever doesn't mean its worth is diminished. Maybe it was just a rationalization - easier on the soul than mourning what might have been - the life unlived. I honestly don't know, but I chose to believe in memory. I chose to believe in her. I chose to believe that the bond was never broken and that we carried each other in our hearts. As a secret singularity. She made me a writer. She made me a man.

    Brian: There would be other loves. Even great loves. But she was right, only one remained perfect.

  • [last lines]

    Brian: I don't know if I'll ever see her again. I don't know if that's a good thing, or a bad one. But I will promise you this. Your favorite story, whatever it might be, was written for one reader.