Dearest Catherine

It has been a week now since Margaret passed away. Father has begun to heal. I-I think what makes this possible are those seven days they spent together, in love. It seems that Margaret awakened something in Father that I had never seen before. It is as if a missing piece has been restored; a piece of his innocence, a piece of his youth. Margaret was a longing he carried with him, a painful memory of what he left behind. The years could not diminish that longing. Before, there was always...sadness in Father's eyes...I could not understand. It was a secret he kept hidden from all of us. A secret he could never share, until now. I suppose we all carry our secrets, like winter garments we are unable to shed because we cannot believe spring has finally come.

All my life I have kept a secret, Catherine, but I can keep it no longer from you. From the time I was young, I...dreamt of...being held close, close enough to someone to feel the warmth of their body against mine. I longed for it. Sometimes, I ached for it. To be...held, tenderly, against the breast of a woman. To have my head stroked gently, to hear a voice whisper that all is safe and well. And I dreamt of holding someone in my arms, holding and feeling their heart beat within mine. But always there was the hunger. At first I...did not know what it was, what I did.

That hunger terrified me. Where would it take me? Would I loose myself?
Would my...hunger destroy what I held most dear? But those dreams were only intimations...shadows of what could be, until the night I found you.

Catherine, you gave a...name to those feelings, a face to those dreams.
And now I know what frightened me so. Every-every time I hold you I feel such peace, until...the hunger begins to stir inside me. Do not be frightened - I would take my life before I would endanger yours. And so
I...struggle with myself. Where does this...path lead? Wh-what shall we do? Perhaps...the only way is to...hold each other close, and take a leap of faith...into the dark night.

Sleep well, my dearest Catherine, sleep well.
Vincent