| Subject: Chapter 276 - Part 2 (16 and above) (end of chapter 276) |
Author:
KatherineG.
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Date Posted: Monday, March 19, 06:59:16am
In reply to:
KatherineG.
's message, "Dreams in the Dark continued (273>)" on Monday, March 05, 07:03:06am
He began, then, his thoughts a white fury, barely contained on the page:
Nikita, my love,
Helmut's given me a few more details of your run-in with our old foe. While I'm very glad to see your strength is still with you, are you mad to treat him that way? You're right. You should have let Fredericks take you away. From now on, *please* allow him to look after you. Until I get back, that is. Then, it's my *right*.
As to the rest of your thoughts, here is the only response any sane man could give (although I admit that I'm hardly sane after reading your letter or in your absence in general): How dare you insult yourself? How dare you say anything bad about your thoughts, your spirit, or your body? To insult them is a crime. I would fight any man who dared to do the same. What makes you think that you can get away with it?
I will take a deep breath and try to get hold of myself--but you make it very difficult. Let me address your ridiculous notions one at a time. But believe me, there will be punishment for you for even having these insulting thoughts. I assure you that you'll thank me for it all.
As to your insults to your spirit, I'm incensed. You have more fire and strength than any twenty men combined. I believe you really have much more than I do--which I dearly love you for. You have looked down the barrel of calamities which would cause many to go mad and still come out the other side, beautiful and whole. You have done all this and still find some way to love and think well of the world. You amaze me, every time. If I have any belief in anything anymore, it is because of you. Never let me catch you in such a gross insult of yourself again.
As to your insults to your body . . . my response cannot be captured on paper. I will show it to you, instead, as soon as I see you. Leave it to be said that, if my natural reaction to this folly of yours comes to its predictable conclusion, our child may well have many dozens of brothers and sisters. Only insult yourself in such a way again, if you're ready to see my response.
No, I can't get past this that easily. How dare you insult either your body or your soul? Do you think I'm blind and stupid? Do you think I've never seen you before, never known the sheer heaven of being in your presence? You are the only woman ever created who can move me so deeply. I frighten myself thinking what I'm capable of. I'll try to leave you with these truths, instead: You are my wife, the only one I could ever truly have. I cherish you more than I have words for. I admire and am always happily amazed by your mind and your spirit. And I have a response to your body--always will, whatever may come--which is far more dangerously beautiful than I ever thought possible. Don't ever insult yourself again--especially when I'm not there to do anything about it, to show you the truth. You could easily make me go mad.
As to your offer to give yourself up to me entirely, I warn you: DO NOT TEMPT ME. You have no idea how often I've had to fight off the terrible dream of simply breaking you to have you entirely as my own. I'm terrified by my own thoughts, by the things I would do to see you both safe and with me. You are a hunger which will never be sated. Do your damnedest to keep track of your own mind, because I'm almost too-willing to have you live simply for me. It's a danger both of us need to watch out for.
Do you see what all your insults have brought out in me, Nikita? Do you see your own danger? No, never again. No matter how frightened you feel, no matter how overwhelmed by threats or enemies, do not insult yourself again. When you do, you bring out in me a desire to *teach* you the truth. I have a feeling that I would be a very harsh taskmaster, indeed.
It's almost time that they'll force me into bed. I have to be fast with the rest of this letter. I hope you'll be able to read it.
Let me tell you quickly why your foolish fears have made me so especially insane: I'm not with you. Every day which passes makes me crazier. It's not simply the physical distance--although, believe me, the dreams I now constantly have of you are not at all subtle--but the fact that I don't have your insights, your compassion, your loving heart, and your indelible fortitude near me. The physical side of my desire for you has always been a result of all of these truths--as well as the fact that you're so inherently lovely that my need for you could easily break me. There is never any moment when I don't feel entirely wrapped up in you. Please, whatever you do, never let me go.
I've been wasting away, being apart from you. I don't feel entirely human anymore. I keep fearing that I'll return to find that you don't want me anymore, that you'll discover you never really did. *I'm* the one in the dream, my love, the one terrified of waking. Someday, I'm convinced that you'll decide that I was simply a childish desire which you've now outgrown. I have no idea at all what I would do, if that were true.
I love you, Nikita. There is nothing else. Keep yourself, keep our child, safe. When I return, I promise to show you the foolishness of your fears. No other woman will ever have me. No one else on earth matters a damn to me but you.
Insane, in love, and unwilling to be contradicted,
Michael
He looked over the letter quickly, began the process of sealing it away--hoping that he had said anything he meant to. Even as he addressed it, he realized that he had nearly been writing in some sort of fugue state--the words overflowing his half-crazed soul without any conscious intervention; there was a very deep sigh. He could only hope that she would understand.
Still, her latest letter--however insane it had made him--did remind him of the truth. She did love him. For all his many fears to the contrary, they were one. And they were both entirely capable of making the other one insane.
He nearly smiled at this, as he proceeded toward bed, tucking the letters away safely to mail tomorrow. Even though much of the tension within the unit had died away, he still had no desire to leave the missives entirely unattended. Many of his allies were still uncertain ones. And the passion and need of his message to his wife was not meant for public perusal.
He stripped down, then, got ready for bed, leaving a shower till tomorrow morning. Even if he stank, the only people to complain were other men. And men tended to have an entirely different concept of the term than might his beloved.
Just the thought of her, though, was painful, his need for her intense. It wasn't only the distance--the now months of celibacy; he just missed her presence in bed with him, knowing she was near. Perhaps he was managing to fit into this new life, but it was still so hard. Seeing her beside him was the only thing he cared about. He just had to focus on the day when this would be his reality again.
He got on with his life, therefore, praying that her many guardians would be enough to look after her, until he returned, however briefly. He needed her safe--for her own sake, as well as his. Even if he could only see her for a few days, he could give her a year's worth of comfort; his sigh deepened. He only hoped that such memories wouldn't have to last them for very long.
It was with this prayer that he made his way toward bed, the one which was so empty without her in it. Tomorrow, he would mail the letters, would survive yet another day without her; it was just his luck that it was a leap year--the universe laughing at him by giving him an extra day to survive without her presence. Still, when tomorrow was over, he would be one day closer to seeing her beautiful face again; his sigh was private. That was the only thing which mattered to him now.
[End of Part 276]
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