(no subject)
I did not go out to the woods again today… nor yesterday, I believe, though whenever I am suffering after these attacks, time slips away from me, and in this land of perpetual darkness, I know not whether it is even day or night. I do not feel as weak now as I have on previous occasions... It sickens me to think that perhaps I am becoming accustomed to losing blood this way? I have drifted in and out of sleep for what feels like what must have been more than one day and night, but I am not sure exactly. If Liza does not answer later when I ring, I will dress and go down, but no more will I think of seeking him. He does not deserve such attention from me. I made up my mind the other day that if he insists upon staying out there on his own, there is nothing I can do to entice him to return. I had been by his room more than once and found it yet unlocked and untouched, but that does not much surprise me. Perhaps he has managed to turn himself from the farm hand he was into a man of means, but he will never be a gentleman, and he is not even worthy the chastisement I wished to pour upon him; the mysterious and unknown blood that runs in his veins will always be nothing more than that of some wild rogue. I will not let myself fear for him, for he is more than capable on his own, and a pack a wolves would sooner run from his cruel stare than dare to sniff after him-No, fear for him was not what had led me out to search for him since he tore off so foolishly last week.
Why should I allow myself to accept his violent harshness and lack of pity when there are those here willing to show me kindness? Several days ago, Mr. Holmes and Mr. Todd at entirely separate moments, both of whom might as well be yet strangers to me as little as I really know of them, offered their deepest sympathies and compassion when I spoke of only the least of my problems; but when I confide in Heathcliff the darkest of my secrets and sharpest of my fears, instead of friendship, he only mocks at my circumstances and dares to accuse me as if I were the cause of all that beset me. How dare he- And for him to react with such passionate anger when I found myself upset by his cold response- He is the worst of friends to me. He has only ever cared for what affects his own heart and not mine at all if it has not to do with him.
And yet, if I did not know escape from this place was impossible, I could almost bring myself to fear he had left me again as he did years ago, and I should no doubt be more ill in health and spirit than ever I had been before. He begged me for days to confide in him and when I finally have the strength to do so, instead of offering me the comfort of friendship I need- how dare he parade in my misfortune! And now, days later, to know that he cannot leave these grounds and yet still keeps himself out there only to be away from me- Well it does not inspire tears any longer, but rather a cold anger that did not let me sleep for several nights. I should have had no rest at all, I think, if I had not been weakened so by this attack. My memories of the other night when it occurred are so filled with vague shadows, but I think I recall the Count chasing away the bat and I can still see its vicious bloody eyes staring at me, and then I do remember the Count and I trying to explain it all to Mr. Todd, though his reaction I cannot bring back to mind.
Earlier that evening, before it happened, Mr. Gray, in a most touching gesture, had his handkerchief delivered to me with the dearest of messages accompanying it. I wished I could have questioned Liza more on how he came to do so, but we were quite rudely interrupted by the horrible cook as she came screaming into the kitchen, dragging with her a dead beast she seemed quite determined to cook for dinner. We left at once and Liza, who was not feeling well herself after being attacked (will none here be spared??) did not remain among our company long.
But how strange it was to find that Mr. Gray had been thinking of me on the very day when my own thoughts had so dwelled upon him once I had firmly decided to not step foot to the woods again. Could it be that my feelings of abandonment somehow touch him even when I have seen nothing of him since that evening we spent together out in the yard when the moon was full and dared to appear. I can still- Better not to write on that. I cannot think on it without blushing in memory and, with these words alone, already my cold cheeks grow hot. But it is quite easy to forgive him his distance, even when he was then and is now so on my mind, when I know I am on his with true affection. I can only imagine what ruthless and pitiless thoughts of me must occupy Heathcliff's mind. If he even thinks of me and all and not only of himself.
Finding comfort and pleasure in the company of most of the others here has never been at all difficult and I will not hesitate to seek the friendships of those whom I know can mean me very well.
Why should I allow myself to accept his violent harshness and lack of pity when there are those here willing to show me kindness? Several days ago, Mr. Holmes and Mr. Todd at entirely separate moments, both of whom might as well be yet strangers to me as little as I really know of them, offered their deepest sympathies and compassion when I spoke of only the least of my problems; but when I confide in Heathcliff the darkest of my secrets and sharpest of my fears, instead of friendship, he only mocks at my circumstances and dares to accuse me as if I were the cause of all that beset me. How dare he- And for him to react with such passionate anger when I found myself upset by his cold response- He is the worst of friends to me. He has only ever cared for what affects his own heart and not mine at all if it has not to do with him.
And yet, if I did not know escape from this place was impossible, I could almost bring myself to fear he had left me again as he did years ago, and I should no doubt be more ill in health and spirit than ever I had been before. He begged me for days to confide in him and when I finally have the strength to do so, instead of offering me the comfort of friendship I need- how dare he parade in my misfortune! And now, days later, to know that he cannot leave these grounds and yet still keeps himself out there only to be away from me- Well it does not inspire tears any longer, but rather a cold anger that did not let me sleep for several nights. I should have had no rest at all, I think, if I had not been weakened so by this attack. My memories of the other night when it occurred are so filled with vague shadows, but I think I recall the Count chasing away the bat and I can still see its vicious bloody eyes staring at me, and then I do remember the Count and I trying to explain it all to Mr. Todd, though his reaction I cannot bring back to mind.
Earlier that evening, before it happened, Mr. Gray, in a most touching gesture, had his handkerchief delivered to me with the dearest of messages accompanying it. I wished I could have questioned Liza more on how he came to do so, but we were quite rudely interrupted by the horrible cook as she came screaming into the kitchen, dragging with her a dead beast she seemed quite determined to cook for dinner. We left at once and Liza, who was not feeling well herself after being attacked (will none here be spared??) did not remain among our company long.
But how strange it was to find that Mr. Gray had been thinking of me on the very day when my own thoughts had so dwelled upon him once I had firmly decided to not step foot to the woods again. Could it be that my feelings of abandonment somehow touch him even when I have seen nothing of him since that evening we spent together out in the yard when the moon was full and dared to appear. I can still- Better not to write on that. I cannot think on it without blushing in memory and, with these words alone, already my cold cheeks grow hot. But it is quite easy to forgive him his distance, even when he was then and is now so on my mind, when I know I am on his with true affection. I can only imagine what ruthless and pitiless thoughts of me must occupy Heathcliff's mind. If he even thinks of me and all and not only of himself.
Finding comfort and pleasure in the company of most of the others here has never been at all difficult and I will not hesitate to seek the friendships of those whom I know can mean me very well.