(no subject)
It has been ages since I've been well enough to pick up a pen, and now that I am able to, I have too much to write about. My hand gets in the way of my words, and I find I cannot get them all down.
Mina is resting. She doesn't tell me, but I know she doesn't sleep nights - though it seems it is always night, here! - for fear that I might start sleepwalking again. She looks more and more tired every day, though she never complains, the dearheart. She is too good to me.
I ventured down with Mina and my new friend Miss Liza to take tea last evening, and finally got to meet all the interesting, wonderful people that Mina has spoken of...and some she hadn't met either.
I have never seen my dear, strong, good Mina in such distress. Never, in the many years that we've been friends, sisters in every way save for the literal. And I - I could do nothing to comfort her! I, to whom she has always been so good, so comforting...I couldn't help.
I want to go home. I know that sounds so very petty and childish of me, but I do. I miss Mama, I miss Arthur and I miss my own bed. Mina is here with me, and she is always a comfort - but I feel I've failed her in some irreparable way. I repeat: I want to go home. I want to go home. I want to go home.
Mina is resting. She doesn't tell me, but I know she doesn't sleep nights - though it seems it is always night, here! - for fear that I might start sleepwalking again. She looks more and more tired every day, though she never complains, the dearheart. She is too good to me.
I ventured down with Mina and my new friend Miss Liza to take tea last evening, and finally got to meet all the interesting, wonderful people that Mina has spoken of...and some she hadn't met either.
I have never seen my dear, strong, good Mina in such distress. Never, in the many years that we've been friends, sisters in every way save for the literal. And I - I could do nothing to comfort her! I, to whom she has always been so good, so comforting...I couldn't help.
I want to go home. I know that sounds so very petty and childish of me, but I do. I miss Mama, I miss Arthur and I miss my own bed. Mina is here with me, and she is always a comfort - but I feel I've failed her in some irreparable way. I repeat: I want to go home. I want to go home. I want to go home.