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(no subject)
Dec. 27th, 2006 04:41 am[Filter: Private]
Hm.
I doubt you think that I can love, Eliza. I'd assume that the very idea makes you ill ... or chuckle, either one seems equally possible. You believe I am capable of manipulation, and lust, and desire, and passion, but love is entirely beyond me. I am despicable, after all, or so you seem to stubbornly believe, and how can a despicable man truly love?
But let it be known, Elzie, dearest, my sweet. I loved Adelaide more than you could ever know. Your husband is an old man, unattractive, uninteresting, as unloveable as he is unloved, to you. If either of us cannot love, I'm afraid to suggest, cruelly enough, dearest Eliza, that it is you.
I am quite capable of love. I loved Adelaide more than you could possibly imagine. Whatever you want to think of me, that is no lie, Eliza, dearest.
Hm.
I doubt you think that I can love, Eliza. I'd assume that the very idea makes you ill ... or chuckle, either one seems equally possible. You believe I am capable of manipulation, and lust, and desire, and passion, but love is entirely beyond me. I am despicable, after all, or so you seem to stubbornly believe, and how can a despicable man truly love?
But let it be known, Elzie, dearest, my sweet. I loved Adelaide more than you could ever know. Your husband is an old man, unattractive, uninteresting, as unloveable as he is unloved, to you. If either of us cannot love, I'm afraid to suggest, cruelly enough, dearest Eliza, that it is you.
I am quite capable of love. I loved Adelaide more than you could possibly imagine. Whatever you want to think of me, that is no lie, Eliza, dearest.
