The letter, Unsent.

Dearest Roxane,

It is my deepest wish that you forgive the presumptuous nature of this missive.
For, while we are friends, and have known each other for some time,  I feel it is necessary to reveal to you a truth which has been hidden from your sight for all too long.

The nature of my crime, I hope you’ll forgive, for it is my poetic heart that has led me to assist another in the task of deception.

But, unlike the evil nature of man, I have not done this to garner fame or fortune…nor have I taken it upon myself to declare myself a leader of men. I am a humble writer and composer of words. I may play the braggart, often enough, but it is the blusterous musings of a harmless mind. Pay no heed to strong words of bravery, about myself…I am in fact in the light of heaven, a coward.

I have squandered days of pure sunlight in the hopes of storing it away in my pocket to be used on a rainy day. Having finally found those storm clouds, at last, i find the sunshine did not keep well…and has grown dim in the cloth where my hands have been.

But, as is all too frequent with me, My words are leading me…us…down trails that will show us nothing of the landscape I wish you to witness. Props and scenery are what you have been presented with, these past months…and I am most wounded to say, that it was to focus the feelings you have in your heart for another..and to magnify his presence, as does the piece of glass, show the ant to be the size of your palm.

The ant, Fair Lady, did not wish you harm.

Nor did the “piece of glass”.

Though its edges are sharp…it wanted only to lend its strength to your situation.

It is of my sincere admiration for you, that I speak. Though you know, I am fond of your company, I lack the fortitude to pursue your heart. When you bandaged my wounded palm, i felt my heart rising up to you..as does the flower to the sun.

Your gentle nature, and beauty, conspire to release in me…at tidal wave. The likes of which no levee built by human hands could contain.

Were I to understand the full nature of my situation, I would indeed find that the writing of this letter is hopeless. Though I search within my soul for an outcome to the present situation, none does present itself which begins with you reading this letter and ends with you in my arms.

I understand, all too well, that I have been the mortar between the bricks of my own prison walls.

But the harsh light of the day, and the solitude of the night, Demand that my hand write these words, even if they are never to be viewed by your beautiful eyes.

Your beloved Christian, is a man of strength and action…and no doubt is the most capable of souls to carry you through the days on this God forsaken earth.  What he lacks in vocabulary, he will make up for with a raw and noble spirit. He is the man you think he is. Though his words are not always his own.  He has strength of Heart, and character, that make all other men look to him for leadership! He is a fine Soldier, Lady. Of this you can be sure.

I intend to keep my promise to you. Though it is barely within my power to do so, I will attempt to keep him safe from Harm. But in doing this, I do not preserve his life, for His well-being. What I do, I do in your name.

And so, since we are off to battle again. I would send this letter to you. For whatever hardships may befall me on the field of war, I want you to know that I am ever faithful in my service to you.

But I will not journey to heaven without you knowing the truth. And so I have ordered that this letter, be delivered to you…upon my certain death…so that you might live in the darkness no longer.

You have received letters, as of late, from your Christian. and if you have not surmised by now…being the woman of considerable intellect I know you to be…then I will no longer use the flowers on my tongue to cover my rotten stink with perfume.

Though the parchment may occasionally touch the fingers of your love, the words are grown and cultivated in my heart.

I have penned them from the depths of my soul, and applied Christian’s face to the page. He and I, conspirators and thieves, in the plain and despicable plot…to woo your heart and place it on Christian’s mantel.

I, send this…having breathed my last breath…and hoping that you will find the grace of Heaven to forgive this old fool.  What I have done, I did in the name of Love.

And in the pursuit, of the proliferation, of power much higher than myself…
and with the greatest respect and admiration, of My Heart.

These words, in this letter, penned by Myself
With no further pretentiousness or desire for gain…

I remain,

Ever your faithful friend and servant
And with all my heart’s worth of Love

Cyrano de Bergerac

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About Eric

Writer/Plumber/Poet/Father/Gentleman/Romantic
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34 Responses to The letter, Unsent.

  1. Geetha B says:

    Beautiful Eric. I could well imagine you writing like Cyrano did between love and wit. It was one of my favourite plays to watch and the movie where Gérard Dépardieu plays Cyrano is fascinating 🙂

    • Eric says:

      This play is always such a lighting rod for my feelings about my romantic life. Not to paint myself as a man who has never had love…obviously I have..but I can relate to Cyrano on so many levels.

      I’ve always wanted to write this letter as I thought he might have. I know this piece requires some knowledge of the play and the character to fully appreciate it. I’m glad you had that knowledge. 🙂

      Thank you, Geetha! ❤

  2. VictoryInTrouble says:

    Wow, Eric! The language here is just beautiful. So well done!

  3. moonskittles says:

    Ahhh, I knew that we had more than just love for life in common. Cyrano is one of my favorite plays! Your letter is definitely a masterpiece. I can imagine Roxane reading it and falling deeper and deeper in love with the man behind the words. Awww!! This just made my day brighter!!

    • Eric says:

      I always thought, “What if he wanted Her to know..in case he never got the chance to tell her. Maybe he would die instead of christian, and he would want to let her know the reason the letters stopped coming.” I love that play with all my heart.

      • moonskittles says:

        I have wondered the same too.. but because we see all and know all, and she did not.. sigh.. truth should always be told first..

  4. A treasured work of art, Eric! ♥

  5. Rita says:

    Absolutely divine, my Brother. My favorite: “that I have been the mortar between the bricks of my own prison walls” – ah, so very true of me indeed. Love this.

  6. thought provoking and so eloquent. Love this, my friend 🙂

  7. Speechless. This is brilliant.

  8. Wow! This is awesome, Brother. You captured the feel of the language so well — as well as the spirit of the character. Beautifully done!

  9. Elizabeth Helmich says:

    After reading these comments, I will watch this. As Geetha said, thought not necessary, I’d rather capture the full depth of meaning in this piece. “My words are leading me…us…down trails that will show us nothing of the landscape I wish you to witness”. Way too many sighs. ❤

    • Eric says:

      I hope you enjoy it! I recommend the 1950s version to the modern day adaptation with Steve Martin! But which ever you choose, I hope you appreciate it! It’s a wonderful story!

      • Elizabeth Helmich says:

        After seeing his face, I know I’ve seen bits of it, but I want to wait until I can watch the whole thing. Which means that I have one more tab open in the background. Or else Elizabeth will forget. 🙂

      • Elizabeth Helmich says:

        About 99.9% of the time originals are better, but every now and then…they do them justice. Or at least bring to a new audience, which is nice to keep the story alive.

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