For the past couple of weeks I've been re-reading A Love That Makes Life Drunk, and after a conversation with a friend, I realise there is alot more of me in that book than I first thought. Infact, so much, it's a little, well, frightening.
I've never been one to expose myself too much. I loathe being centre of attention, and even find compliments hard to accept, so I am shocked at how much I am in the characters of Lily AND Jefferson.
I suppose people who know me will find it easy to identify me with Lily, and why wouldn't they, we are, in some parts, strikingly similar. I identify with her for a number of reasons of which now is not the time to go into detail, but there's a passage that begins on page 172, that really strikes a chord, and that's "Lily's happy ever after", so, I want to take the time out put these words right here for you to read, from one Lily to another.
This passage comes from an intimate letter Lily writes to Jefferson. Both are in turmoil over their feelings for each other, and have to make an important decision. So when Jefferson asks her "what would Lily like?", this is what she comes up with.
"...Of a house in a field. A house made of reclaimed brick. A house with a farmhouse door and fireplace to accommodate a huge roaring fire for cosy autumn/winter days and nights. A home brimming with our books; shelves filled with our work, of muddy shoes by the back door after a walk in the hills, of seeing our breath in the air as we return on a frosty day. Of seeing you wrapped up, of feeling your hand in mine.
J, I dream of a home. Our home, where I can look out of the windows and see trees and sky; breathe in fresh air, feel alive, run free! A place where I can write beside you, or be near you. Where we can hide away in our "High Place". I dream of a boudoir bedroom brimming with texture: fur, cashmere, velvet, cotton, and chiffon. I dream of that way you look at me everytime you see me.
Oh J, I dream of sex. Of brutality. Of exploration, of experimenting further with you; breaking new ground, pushing the boundaries, just you and me.
I want a garden. A field. I want trees and flowers; I want good wine and fine foods. I want to cook, I want to sit down with you and clink glasses, smiling as you open another bottle because we haven't finished talking. Of you laying me out on a fur rug infront of a blazing fire and making love to me. Of candles in the bath, of baking bread and scrambled egg in the kitchen, of cooking on an Aga, of feeling autumn leaves billowing carefree around my face as I collect eggs for us. Of washing your hair in the bath, of watching you sleep by my side, of making you happy.
I see myself with you at prestigious Awards, dinner parties, pretentious Mayfair parties, on breaks in London Hotels, decadent weekends in Paris dressed elegantly by Chanel, Prada and Valentino. Of having friends to stay with us. Of birthdays, of Christmas'. I dream of a real Christmas tree with twinkling lights and silver stars and us opening presents before breakfast.
Oh J, I dream of a life with you, so ask me that question again, "what does Lily want?", well Lily dreams of all the above, but would feel just as rewarded to have you, just you, just us, for a very long time."
Once upon a time there was a woman. A woman who knew exactly what she wanted to do with her life. A woman who realised she had reachable dreams, and one thing was for sure, this was right where she wanted to be.