(no subject)
[OOC: In response to this letter.]
My lord,
I hope you continue well.
Some of your most recent letter came as a surprise to me, and unfortunately, I cannot say all of it was welcome. But it has succeeded in setting me thinking of the past. After you have been so open with me, how can I do anything but the same?
I cannot excuse the way in which I treated you, or our marriage. I can only say that I was young, and a fool, as the young sometimes are. My foolishness, though, hurt not only you and me, but ultimately even our son.
You accuse yourself of blindness, and of refusing to hear my case. But equal guilt must lie with me. If I had sought you out, made more effort to be the wife I should have been, perhaps things would have fallen out different.
But if's and perhaps's may drown one, if one is not careful. That much, at least, I have learned over the years since I left Camelot.
I have also learned that forgiveness, though it may be one of the highest forms of love one person may show for another, is not easy. Perhaps love never is. Like you, my lord, I fear I have not earned your forgiveness. But let me assure you that you have only to ask it of me, and I will give it you, though it may take me some time.
I wish I could speak to you face to face.
I fear this letter grows overlong, and so I send you
All good wishes,
Guinevere
My lord,
I hope you continue well.
Some of your most recent letter came as a surprise to me, and unfortunately, I cannot say all of it was welcome. But it has succeeded in setting me thinking of the past. After you have been so open with me, how can I do anything but the same?
I cannot excuse the way in which I treated you, or our marriage. I can only say that I was young, and a fool, as the young sometimes are. My foolishness, though, hurt not only you and me, but ultimately even our son.
You accuse yourself of blindness, and of refusing to hear my case. But equal guilt must lie with me. If I had sought you out, made more effort to be the wife I should have been, perhaps things would have fallen out different.
But if's and perhaps's may drown one, if one is not careful. That much, at least, I have learned over the years since I left Camelot.
I have also learned that forgiveness, though it may be one of the highest forms of love one person may show for another, is not easy. Perhaps love never is. Like you, my lord, I fear I have not earned your forgiveness. But let me assure you that you have only to ask it of me, and I will give it you, though it may take me some time.
I wish I could speak to you face to face.
I fear this letter grows overlong, and so I send you
All good wishes,
Guinevere