Yes, I’ve been watching the Sex and the City Movie and I couldn’t help thinking that Carrie was right. There should be such a book. A literary feast from which our partners could draw inspiration when needed.
And, lo, off the back of the film, I discover that there is such a tome.
Anyone who ever was anyone and penned an epistle to his lover has been scrutinised for consideration and the best ones have been brought together for this collection.
I know it was different for Mozart and Beethoven and Nelson and the like. As Big pointed out: ‘Those guys had to write. They were separated from their loves by wars and sometimes hundreds and hundreds of miles. I’m right here.’
And I guess that’s true. They couldn’t text their mistresses with a two line appreciation of the pertness of their breasts or the fact that they had a hard penis which they wanted to stick up them.
They had to sit down, get pen and ink and parchment and construct proper sentences to convey the depths of their feelings. When I read the love letters that Henry VIII wrote to Anne Boleyn, I am quite moved by his almost pitiful entreaties that she accord him even a moment of notice. And she dragged out the final consummation for seven years, most of which was spent fluttering her eyelashes coyly and waggling her arse to provoke, before knocking him back vehemently when he tried to respond as most males would.
Napoleon, away making war, sent the following thought to Josephine: ‘I awake consumed by thoughts of you’
To be fair, Ruf has been known to send me texts in a similar vein, if not with quite such romantic verbs. But then, of course, he cannot be with me all the time so, sometimes, he does feel the need to write those things by way of communication… and I love to receive them. Confirmation that he is feeling as bereft about not being together as I am.
Beethoven, in a missive to his own true love: ‘My thoughts go out to you my immortal beloved, I can only live wholly with you or not at all. Be calm my life, my all. Only by calm consideration of our existence can we achieve our purpose to live together. Oh, continue to love me, never misjudge the most faithful heart of your beloved.
Ever mine
Ever thine
Ever ours.’
But even if you do see us every day, that doesn’t mean that we, as women, don’t like to have some written proof that our man cares about us. Not sexually but emotionally. That they are all at sea without our presence. That they long for us with a passion which pushes them totally beyond their capacity to explain. And yet, perhaps they should still try.
Even if it’s only to email: ‘I know I screwed it up – but I will love you forever’.
Who knows how many insecure women would find such a departure from the norm, a boon that takes them through several weeks of personal self-esteem issues.
A friend of mine with a marriage that now extends well beyond 35 years, would invariably put a little lovenote into the package containing her husband’s sandwich lunch and he would often leave a similar billet doux lying around the house.
Why hide how you feel from your partner? Communication is the key to a successful relationship and sometimes just saying those three little words into her ear can become commonplace.
So, with Valentine’s Day imminent, why not express yourself via your pen today? Don’t rely on the mass-produced sentimental claptrap of the manufactured card because there won’t be any good ones left by now. Write something appreciative that is specific and personal to her.
A proper love letter.
I bet you get your leg over as a result…
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