From An Old Letter

There is nothing much more to be expressed. I have the most awful feelings almost all the time now. These are what I must struggle to express, but it's hard work. Only because she has something in her, some intangible thing, that is deeply attractive... a vast, unfathomable well, the source of another Nile.
There is a flame that still responds. There is after all a heart that beats. There are brown clothes, scents, rooms, that from this distance still come back to me. Her mouth, her smile, her hair, her eyes, all gone, done for today, wrapped up. And yet I know as sure as death that they'll recur, haunt my dreams of other days. There seems to be something in me that will not rest, nor be resisted. And all this fear is to another soul wedded, all this shame is to another life bonded, all at once, all in misery, all in love.
I love because there is no such thing as love. And I can't stop.