Final Sunset

Dear Reader,

It's Emily again. I am writing to you to let you know what happened to Anna. Shortly after receiving the last letter she wrote to me, I was informed about her death.

After Anna wrote her final words to her best friend and to the man of her life, she drove to the entrance of the Golden Gate bridge and parked her car. Those who saw her walking to the middle of the bridge say she had a relatively peaceful look on her face - like she was oblivious to everything and everyone around her. She seemed to solely be looking ahead and aiming for the middle of the bridge. They say she was wearing a beautiful white dress, almost like a wedding dress. She must have looked so beautiful, this twenty-first century Ophelia.

She reached the middle of the bridge and stopped. Anna stared into the vast depth of the cold, blue water below, then looked up and experienced her final sunset - the most beautiful sunset she had yet to see in San Francisco. Then, she jumped.

Anna's body was never found.

- Emily

Liebestod

Hello Reader. It's Emily. The posts you have just read are ones that I have compiled in order to tell the story of my dear friend, Anna. Her life is a tale of beautiful sorrow ending in a romantic tragedy. The following letters are the last two she wrote; the first to me and the second to James.

Dear Emily,

This will be my last letter to you. I have endured enough suffering in this life, and am ready to move on. I ended up coming home before the arts retreat ended, so that I could, once again, attempt to enjoy this beautiful city that I have loved so dearly. I cannot even say that I find any pleasure in being here anymore. I find no happiness in anything, and the only thing I can count on is the fact that James does love me. I know he does. The sad part is that this world has not allowed him to enjoy and embrace the love we have for each other. Only in death will we be together. I can only wait for liebestod. I am in peace knowing that we will be together in the after-life. So, now I will depart. I shall venture off into the unknown realm of the ethereal where my soul shall become transcendent, and my body will be of no use. I no longer feel like I am bound to my physical reality. A sort of disease rages on inside of me. The kind of disease that I spoke to Eve about; the kind that you can't cure.

Know that I have found a divine solace, dear Emily. Know that I shall die in peace because I have felt his love.

So, farewell! You have been an amazing friend! Always remember to feel! I shall see you in the next life my good friend! I hope the Golden Gate is left unguarded!

Love,
Anna

Anna's Letter to James:

To the love of my life:

Dearest James,

James, you are always with me. Always in my heart, in my thoughts. Every breath I have taken from the moment I met you has been in hopes of one day being with you. I love you. I love you. I love you. And, I know that you love me too. I saw it in your eyes the day we sat on that sacred bench - the day we shared the most passionate kiss of all time. As I stare at the beautiful night sky, I am reminded of your own perfection - of the perfection of us. For now we shall be apart, but we shall be together forever in the next life my love! Farewell! Farewell! Farewell! This life has been too much too handle...all I long for is you!

Love always,
Anna

Me and the Moon

Written on the night of the previously written post:

Emily,

My being is dead. My physical existence in this world is no longer relevant or necessary. I have no one. I am as alone as the solitary silver moon whose brilliance is lost among the abyss of darkness that surrounds it. All I feel is the definite emptiness within myself and my physical being. This emotional pain that I have been feeling has evolved into a physical pain as well. I do not know how long I will be able to go on like this. It must end. I must end. The only hope I have is in liebestod...

"O that this too too sullied flesh would melt,
Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew,
Or that the Everlasting had not fixed
His canon 'gainst self-slaughter. O God, God,
How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable
Seem to me all the uses of this world!"
- Hamlet, Act I.2 L.129-134

- Anna

Our Hearts, Minds, Bodies, and Souls Entwine

Dear Emily,

Today was my final visit with James. I signed up for the arts retreat and am driving to Napa later tonight. James doesn't really believe I'm going, and I don't know if I do either. I have to though - or at least that's what I keep telling myself. This deep passion I feel for him is unrequited, and I know I will die if I stay here. My visit with James was not as fulfilling as I thought it would be. There was a gloomy sense of loss that I felt upon arrival, and I could sense that he was trying to distance himself from me. Why does everything have to be so complicated? Why can't he just understand that I will never be happy, that he will never be happy, until we are together? Anyway, something worth noting did happen when I went to visit him. Although he tried so hard to be distant, our magnetic connection, even for him, was inescapable. We were drawn to each other. We sat down on a bench near his house. Once again, he pulled out his moleskine and decided to read me another one of his poems. This one, well this one was full of passion. It seemed as if, with each verse, his face was drawing closer to mine. My eyes were fixed on him, on his perfect lips mouthing the words which opened up my soul to him. "...our hearts, minds, bodies, and souls entwine..." Those were the last words of the poem. My eyes were filled with tears, with passion, with a desire. At that moment we shared a kiss - most pure and heavenly kiss one could ever image, and one that I will never forget. One kiss, and then he repented and went away. I called to him, but he was gone. I am lost Emily, entirely lost. His image, his poems, and the memories we have shared shall haunt me forever. I can no longer feel one ounce of happiness because I know I shall never see him again. We shall not be together until after death. I am tortured by my thoughts and my unheard of physical and emotional pain, but at least now I know for certain that James really does love me. He proved his love for me today, and now I can find some solace in that. Anyway, I have decided that I shall leave tonight.

Ciao, Anna

Wearing Thin

Emily,

I don't think I will be dropping by James and Eve's anymore. I don't feel quite welcome there. I need to leave. I can't even be in this city anymore. My job at the MoMA isn't really working out either, so I might just take a leave of absence for awhile. I heard about a three-month long arts retreat in Napa that sounds like it could be fun. I mean, at least I would get to meet some potentially intelligent and passionate people like myself. I don't know. Everything is falling to pieces. I love James. I do. I must try to move on. Their wedding is quite soon I believe. I have to go. The pain I feel right now is way too overwhelming. I cannot continue living in a permanent state of idle thoughts and useless fantasy. Agh, but why not? Can what my heart believes and longs for not be reality or come true? I shall write to you when I decide what I' going to do. Until then!

- Anna

Communication Lost

Dear Emily,

I went to go visit James once again this week, thinking that we would be alone, but no - Eve is back. I felt a certain tension when I arrived because I knew that she was beginning to be annoyed by my close relations with her husband. Nevertheless, we had a pretty interesting afternoon. James seemed to be completely enveloped by his poetry, so Eve and I began to discuss questions of ethics and philosophy. Somehow we stumbled on the ridiculously tabooed topic of suicide, and discussed it for quite a while. Eve and I had completely different views on the topic; hers being monotonous and logical, while mine was full of passion and conviction. Suicide, I told her, was like a terminal disease - one that springs from a feeling of overwhelming and uncontrollable emotion. She could not understand a word I was saying. Her interpretation of suicide was that of any person who doesn't ever seem to really be alive in the first place. She saw suicide as a foolish act of weakness. The conversation continued as follows...

"No, Eve. You're being way too close-minded. You just don't understand. Suicide is always so wrongly misinterpreted by those who don't understand what it is to FEEL. What happens is that some people are so completely overcome with passion that they feel they can no longer be bound to the physical reality to which they have been subjected. Suicide is an honorable action that no one less than a whole being, a completely full person, could undertake," I replied.

"Are you mad? Someone who kills himself is a coward. It's definitely easier to kill yourself than to withstand the tragedies that come with life. I mean, can't they find some source of rationality in their life?"

I could not believe her. I just wanted to stop talking to her because I knew she would never understand; I could never touch her heart with my reasoning. But I continued.

"Eve, when someone is driven to the point of suicide, there is no "rationality" that can save them. The passion that courses through their veins overpowers any sense of reason in their minds. They will never be as they once were - they will never achieve the level of happiness that they once felt in their life, and so nature takes control. When a person is so full of any dark emotion or passion left unfulfilled, any sense they once had disappears, and essentially they are lost - gone forever. They just can't be saved, and the saddest part of it all is that it's not completely their fault; society plays a major role in their abandonment. But, Eve, lets leave that for another conversation."

How different two people can be, and how easily they can misinterpret each other!

- Anna

My Confession

Dear Emily,

I went to go visit James today. Eve is out of town at some conference in Sacramento for a week. I knew that James was probably lonely seeing as Eve and I are the only people that are really close to him - next to the vivid characters he creates in his poems and stories that is. We talked about life, about the world we live in, and more specifically, about the people in our world. He listened to me so attentively as I spoke to him about my passionate beliefs about the world. I told him about all the beauty I found and cherished in nature, and how I translate that beauty through my art. He seemed quite happy in seeing how much I felt alive when I was with him. I let him know how wonderful I felt being there - embracing that one, innocent moment in time and space when we we're together. The conversation then shifted as he pulled out his moleskine notebook full of a collection of poems and sketches. He read me a poem, a beautiful sonnet that brought me close to tears. I wanted to cry out. I wanted to grab him and kiss him; to proclaim my love for him. Only decency made me come to my senses. I was so emotional and so overwhelmed that I decided to read to him a poem that I had written the night before. Undoubtedly, I felt some pressure due to the fact that he was such a marvelous poet, but it's as if someone else entered my body and took charge of my soul. I read the poem to him (the one that I attached) and he too was almost brought to tears. I could see in his eyes that he secretly longed for what I so obviously desired. He was perplexed by my seemingly indirect, but nevertheless profound exclamation of emotion, and began to shut down. He told me that our relationship was becoming far too close, and that he loved and respected his soon to be wife, Eve. I was undoubtedly crushed, but felt somewhat content at having expressed myself to him in the most honest and pure way I could. I did not care about the words that had just come out of his mouth because I knew that his true feelings, his soul, could be seen through his eyes, and his eyes told me that he loved me.

- Anna

A Dream In the Night

Lost in confusion and total self bliss
I've found the relation between dream and wish
A dream is a fantasy lived only while asleep
But a wish has a compass vast, far and deep.
A dream can bring true the wish never thought
As your mind wanders aimlessly and feelings are sought.
But a wish is a simple, momentous undertaking
A grasping of things while still in the making.
Now my understanding of wish and of dreams
Have broadened my scope - or so it would seem
But still I'm confused and nothing is clear
Because you are a wish, yet a dream so dear.
With the breath of each day, I wish for your sight
Visions of loveliness turned to dreams in the night
You've become such a fantasy with realistic tones
I long for your love and time spent alone
Sadly enough my dreams cause confusion
For all their purpose are meager illusion
And though the dawn of each day may be cheerful to sight
I fear the darkness and my continuing fight.
For now its a war - a battle within
A dreadful nightmare which rationality must win
What should I do? Where shall I begin?
Should I ask for your love or remain a dear friend?
In my dreams you're my lover and my world is complete
But in life your a martyr to hope so elite
I've grown to know you and care with a passion
But fear lies within mutual attraction.
If I am to approach you with some indication
Would I strengthen our friendship or cause detonation?
This is the confusion, the struggle, the fight,
Until I am sure, you'll remain a dream in the night.

Blue Nude

Dear Emily,

James and I met again at the same blessed Haight and Ashbury cafe that brought us together only a about one week ago. The connection we have is something to really be witnessed Emily - it's absolutely platonic! I love him! I know it! Being with him is the most invigorating part of my day. When we're together it is almost like we are the only two people in the entire world. Our hearts and minds wander to a place so perfect, so happy that it seems almost surreal. I feel like I am lost in one of those brilliantly colorful Matisse paintings; I'm swirling around in the beautiful blend of lightness and dark. Everything seems so clear. I have found my other half! Oh, if this could only last forever! It will. It must!
Ciao <3,
Anna

Ella Understands

Dear Emily,

I can’t help myself. I need you to understand how madly I feel about James. James, James, James. Just saying his name, just thinking about his infinite wisdom and deep set eyes makes me want to scream out in ecstasy. Oh, his eyes Emily! The sea-blue eyes that spoke to me of happiness and truth, of life and laughter, of the mysterious and inescapable attraction between us… His presence and his attachments harmonize with the melody of a classic Ella Fitzgerald song…this song echoes from the confused chambers of my heart…

I need your love so badly
I love you oh so madly
But I don't stand a ghost of a chance with you
I thought at last I found you
But other loves surround you
And I don't stand a ghost of a chance with you
If you'd surrender
Just for a tender
Kiss or two
You might discover
That I'm the lover
Meant for you
And I'd be true
But what's the good of scheming
I'm dreaming
For I don't stand a ghost of a chance with you
Cuz I don't stand
A ghost of a chance
With you

Emily! He will be mine! Oh, he has to be! We are meant for each other. We need each other.

- Anna

MoMA Date for Three

Emily,

Oh, wretched state! Emily, I might as well be struck down by God this instant. You would not believe what happened when James showed up to tour the museum. He wasn’t alone! I almost died of agony upon their arrival – “their” meaning James and his fiancée Eve. Yes, you read that correctly. James is engaged, and to an undoubtedly respectable and quite attractive woman who works for the mayor! It’s a nightmare, an absolute nightmare! Why? I can hardly understand it. Eve is one of those people that believe in convention, and structure, and reason! She is probably the least passionate person I have ever met – no real charisma or vitality, nothing! Yet, she is something. She is HIS something, and what am I to do?

We got along I guess. We had the polite just-met-you-this-is-kind-of-awkward-but-let’s-pretend-it’s-not conversation, and everything kind of worked itself out. I gave them the tour, they were happy, and I, well I felt a thousand knives slicing at my insides the entire time. The worst part about it is that James seems to be content with her. Well, I guess any man would be. Enough about Eve though.

The real issue is that I cannot picture one moment of my future without James in it. He constantly occupies my every thought, and all I want more than anything in this world of simple-minded people and empty action is to be with him. I so desperately want to be with him, but right now I am refused the satisfaction of his presence, so I shall leave it to my dreams to create the happiness, the overwhelming emotion I feel when he and I are together.

- Anna

La Vita e Bella

Dearest Emily,

So sorry to have not written to you in so long; I have been terribly busy at work, and with my art, but most importantly, I have fallen in love. Yes, it’s true. The Anna that you so reasonably thought to have released herself from such a “triviality” as you once called it has been completely swept away by a love so innate, so seemingly perfect, that I can hardly stand to describe it because of the beautifully overwhelming trance it puts me in. No Emily, it is not that youthful and innocent love that I’m sure you have heard of, and have undoubtedly encountered in your own life, but a pure, undeniable love – yes, I am sure that is the kind of love I feel.

I will explain it all to you from the beginning. From the first moment I saw him, without even having said a word, he seemed to be one of those people that you only encounter once in your life. You know those people that you meet – maybe just that ONE person that you meet – that you know you have to spend the rest of your life with in order to ever feel whole again. For me, that person is the mysterious man I met exactly a week ago today.

It seemed to be a day like any other – wait, no, this day was more beautiful than ever. It was about mid-morning, and the sun was perfectly mounted in the sky, beaming over the hills of San Francisco, and filling the water with peaks of beaming sparkles. The poppies were in full bloom along the pathways in Golden Gate Park as I made my way to my favorite little café on the corner of Haight and Ashbury.

What happened next is of most significance. I sat down, pulled out the latest translation of short stories by Chekhov, and sipped on my Moroccan mint tea. After about ten minutes, James walked in and asked if we could share a table (all the others had either been taken or reserved). At that moment I was immediately struck by his ocean blue eyes and Michelangelic figure. He had the kindest disposition, and soon after he sat down, we began to talk. He told me he was a writer – a poet, actually. I could tell he was just as much a romantic as I was. Oh Emily…I can barely write to you because, upon recollecting his image, my thoughts wander to this magnificent place and time where James and I will be forever. After we each introduced ourselves, we began discussing art and literature, and immediately clicked. Not only was he a romantic, but he was an intellectual. God could not have created a more beautiful and divine human being. Oh, how I long to be with him once again – to see his face, to feel his spirit, to hear his defined, yet compassionate voice speak of his love for Chekhov and his adoration of the incredible mosaic work at St. Mark’s Basilica in Venice.

He is too perfect. Could these undeniable feelings I am having be real? Is he simply a mere illusion of what I have always longed for, but never found? No, he is real – flesh and all. That same flesh I shall see in a few days Emily! He asked to come see the latest Leibowitz exhibition at the MoMA, and I was more than happy to offer him a private tour. I shall write to you about how it goes! Until then, I shall revel in the fountain of life that has awakened in me!

Ciao,
Anna

Roasted Coffee and Sweet Eucalyptus

Dearest Emily,
Everything is finally coming together for me here in San Francisco. I am in love with my job as a curator at the SF MoMA and I absolutely adore living on Notting Hill. Everything I am surrounded by seems to blend so beautifully and so perfectly that I feel I have reached a certain paradise on Earth. My senses have been overwhelmed by the truly invigorating atmosphere that is San Francisco, and I feel as if my soul has been transported to a place of pure, natural bliss. Even the air - filled with a seemingly divine combination of dark roasted coffee, sweet eucalyptus, Nat Sherman's, and a refreshing ocean breeze has contributed to my religious adoration of this place. It's absolutely marvelous. The beautiful landscape of this haven by the sea - composed of countless parks, artsy cafes, and diverse galleries, only serves to heighten its already remarkable appeal. Oh and the sounds Emily, the sounds of this place are truly something to be experienced. If I could only do justice to this Babylon of sorts. Seeing as my whole being has become fully dependent on the vitality of this city, I shall attempt to paint it for you with my palette of bright blues and purples, reds, yellows; every color imaginable will take part in my ode to this new home of mine. I truly am happy now Emily, and I only wish the same for you! Miss you tons and hope all is well! Ciao!
Much love,
Anna