

I’m currently reading “The Letters of Vita Sackville-West and Virginia Woolf”. It’s a compilation of real letters between two of the most famous women in English literature, spanning the whole 19 years of their friendship (1922-1941). It’s been fairly established that the two had an affair, even though both were married from the time they met. Vita was an outgoing Aristocrat who had affairs with both men and women, while Virginia was a quiet but prominent novelist.
Here’s a wonderful excerpt from Vita’s letter that made me blush crimson:
Milan, Thursday, 21st of January 1926
“I am reduced to a thing that wants Virginia.
I composed a beautiful letter to you in the sleepless nightmare hours of the night, and it has all gone: I just miss you, in a quite simple, desperate human way. You, with all your undumb letters, would never write so elementary a phrase as that; perhaps you wouldn’t even feel it. And yet I believe you’ll be sensible of a little gap. But you’d clothe it in so exquisite a phrase that it would lose a little of its reality. Whereas with me it is quite stark: I miss you even more than I could have believed; and I was prepared to miss you a good deal. So this letter is just really a squeal of pain.
It is incredible how essential to me you have become. I suppose you are accustomed to people saying these things. Damn you, spoilt creature; I shan’t make you love me any more by giving myself away like this — But oh my dear, I can’t be clever and stand-offish with you: I love you too much for that. Too truly. You have no idea how stand-offish I can be with people I don’t love. I have brought it to a fine art. But you have broken down my defences. And I don’t really resent it.”
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