Smythe Finally Responds!

I doubt he’ll like what I have to say in return

August 6, 2023

Dear Smythe,

It is so nice to finally hear from you. You wrote that you had delayed writing me for so long because you thought I would be upset by the news. Please don’t worry. On the contrary, I am delighted to hear that you have met someone. I hope that she makes you happy in a way that I could not. I also hope that this means you will stop waiting for me to return to America, and that you can settle down into a new routine and a life with someone who is, from the sound of it, far more like you.

Perhaps this is not what you wanted to hear. Did you go into lengthy detail about this new woman because you hoped that I would fall into a jealous rage, that I would write you back immediately and demand you to put her aside and wait for me to return home? I am sorry to disappoint you yet again. Such a response you will never get from me.

We are too different, you and I. You believed you loved me because I was wild and free-spirited. But you also thought that true love would change me, that I would suddenly realize the errors of my ways and decide that what I really wanted was to settle down with a life with you. You were wrong. According to Thomas Aquinas, to love is to will the good of the other. What you willed was, in fact, your own good – it would have been the opposite for me. If I had stayed and married you, I would have morphed into some unhappy creature, and it would not have been long before we were both miserable – more miserable, that is, than we already were. The fact is I do love you. That is why I hope that you are happy with her. (Why is it, I wonder, that you never told me her name?)

In a little over a month, I will have lived in Ireland for one year. I can hardly believe it has been that long, though I can scarcely recognize the jet-lagged woman who took in her first breath of Irish air last September. So much has changed since then. I wish I had kept a better record of what it felt like to be new here, of all the little shocks and nuances I met over my first few months. Though I am of course still an outsider – I’m American, after all, not Irish – I feel remarkably well-adjusted. Perhaps this is only my delusion. I find myself speaking differently, using words I wouldn’t have known until I moved here. I even structure my sentences differently, and I often change where I place the tone. I’ve slowed down, I never enter a shop or a pharmacy without chatting with the cashier. Standing on the street to talk to a stranger is a normal occurrence. Now that I’ve found a community and adjusted to a different culture, it feels natural to be here.

For my master’s thesis, I’ve written, among other things, a few stories recalling what happened when I first arrived in Ireland. I have repeatedly found myself laughing so hard that I’ve cried and been unable to keep writing. I had forgotten what a joy it was to be thrust into a place completely unlike what I have been used to. It was a pleasure to relive those moments, and they have made me so proud of how far I’ve come. I can’t wait to experience that new, shocking feeling again. Do you know what I mean, Smythe? I’m not sure you do. If only you knew how free you could be.

Paris in two days! I’m not sure if I’m more excited for the sun or to see my best friend. Ah, never mind. I do know. I miss the sun less.

I’ll write soon. Would you consider telling me your new girlfriend’s name?

With Love,

Marguerite