ory. [Feb. 23rd, 2007|05:46 pm]
I had the most wonderful experience at work today, I found a love note. I was labelling and filing dissertations and when I encounter English or Creative Writing ones I tend to take a closer look at them, read couple poems, read the abstract, that kind of thing. I encountered one today, "Riding with 13 Rebels" by Valerie Walker-Cox for her English Masters. Inside the front page was this note:
"DEAR VALERIE,
I ADORED CHAPTER
12.
AND I MUST ADMIT,...
I STILL LOVE YOU.
Always,
TOM
16JAN07"
When I read the acknowledgments Tom was mentioned, it said something like "and Tom, for making me ask what I want". The Thesis was about a woman who travels with a motorcycle club, 13 Rebels, and it seems from what of the text I was able to read Tom was one of the guys she met. In the epilouge she talked about being divorced from her husband, who always appears in the memior. It really was amazing. I know where she works from her CV and I'm halfway tempted to try and find her email and write her a letter telling her about the note. If it was left on January 16th, chances are no one but me has been in those files since then, which means Valerie might not know Tom still loves her. Which could be destroying. I almost want her to know. I know that's why I kept it, Sara, my supervisor said it couldn't say with the work, which is what I wanted, for prosterity, it adds a differnt layer to Valerie and Tom's "romance" as "characters" in the narrative. But, dear god, I couldn't throw away an admission of love, I had to keep it. Maybe, if not to tell her explicitly, just to write this and have it be out there, and maybe make it possible for her to know he loves her.
Or perhaps just a reminder that beautiful romances between bikers and married women working on non-fiction memoirs do happen. Just so I can keep it somewhere, forever, to remind myself that love does exsist.
It makes my heart hurt, makes me realise how...it justs bring things up and puts things in perspective. What happens if people love and never tell. What if she never knows for sure. What if no one ever knows for sure. That falling in love, and staying in love makes you want to write notes. It makes me realise most of my regrets in my love revolve around something I wish I'd said.
I had the most wonderful experience at work today, I found a love note. I was labelling and filing dissertations and when I encounter English or Creative Writing ones I tend to take a closer look at them, read couple poems, read the abstract, that kind of thing. I encountered one today, "Riding with 13 Rebels" by Valerie Walker-Cox for her English Masters. Inside the front page was this note:
"DEAR VALERIE,
I ADORED CHAPTER
12.
AND I MUST ADMIT,...
I STILL LOVE YOU.
Always,
TOM
16JAN07"
When I read the acknowledgments Tom was mentioned, it said something like "and Tom, for making me ask what I want". The Thesis was about a woman who travels with a motorcycle club, 13 Rebels, and it seems from what of the text I was able to read Tom was one of the guys she met. In the epilouge she talked about being divorced from her husband, who always appears in the memior. It really was amazing. I know where she works from her CV and I'm halfway tempted to try and find her email and write her a letter telling her about the note. If it was left on January 16th, chances are no one but me has been in those files since then, which means Valerie might not know Tom still loves her. Which could be destroying. I almost want her to know. I know that's why I kept it, Sara, my supervisor said it couldn't say with the work, which is what I wanted, for prosterity, it adds a differnt layer to Valerie and Tom's "romance" as "characters" in the narrative. But, dear god, I couldn't throw away an admission of love, I had to keep it. Maybe, if not to tell her explicitly, just to write this and have it be out there, and maybe make it possible for her to know he loves her.
Or perhaps just a reminder that beautiful romances between bikers and married women working on non-fiction memoirs do happen. Just so I can keep it somewhere, forever, to remind myself that love does exsist.
It makes my heart hurt, makes me realise how...it justs bring things up and puts things in perspective. What happens if people love and never tell. What if she never knows for sure. What if no one ever knows for sure. That falling in love, and staying in love makes you want to write notes. It makes me realise most of my regrets in my love revolve around something I wish I'd said.