BR TO CONSTANCE MALLESON, 13 NOV. 1918
BRACERS 19386. AL. McMaster. SLBR 2: #324
Edited by S. Turcon and N. Griffin. Reviewed by K. Blackwell

<London>
13 Nov ’181,2

Beloved

Forgive me for saying things as if I was fighting today — it is so difficult to say things quietly. That is why I am writing now.

I am not sure of anything except that since you gave up Mitchell3 I have been quite terribly unhappy. Many nights I have lain awake hour after hour, turning round in a dreary round of misery, seeing no escape, and yet hardly knowing what tormented me. When those moods come, I desperately need the companionship of a woman whom I love; nothing else drives them away. That is why I want some one to live with. Jealousy, in the ordinary sense, is not my main trouble: what mainly troubles me is having to fight the black devils alone and unaided, which is a result of your whole manner of life, not only of Maurice4 —

There is one other thing I am sure of: there is no happiness for either of us in your renouncing things for my sake. I cannot bear to see you miserable and lifeless. You cannot really help me by going against your nature. Only what you give by a free impulse really helps, not what you give with effort. And what you give by a free impulse is not enough to save me from despair.

I have been very tired, so that when I try to work I grow dizzy and cannot think. I do not see how we can arrange life, while we remain together, so that it will not wear me out — because when you are lifeless and depressed that wears me out more than anything.

I have lost the sense of inner companionship with you — that is chiefly because I have come to think that your instinctive purposes in life are purely personal. That would not matter if we were otherwise happy but it aggravates unhappiness from other causes. My sub-conscious instinct of self- preservation has been whispering that I ought to learn not to care for you, because otherwise I shall have no energy or vitality.

The whole root of the trouble is that I have no vitality left, and I need nursing and care — 2 months by the sea with you would cure me. All the black thoughts would go if I could get on with my work, which I could if I were rested. But you are not free enough to be able to give me a rest.

You hardly believe I love you, but I do. If I were willing to be oppressive the problem would be easier — But I cannot face the thought of your radiance being dimmed. If we parted, you would recover. But when you are feeling in a cage I grow miserable, and my misery makes me horrid to you.

If you can find a way out of these difficulties I will bless you for ever. Think of me as a very tired and weary fighter, longing for rest for a time, and not finding it. That is the whole matter — From fatigue I have become imprisoned in Self as in a dark cavern and I cannot get out to the light of day without help —

O my dear dear Love I worship you and love you with all my soul — Save me Beloved if you can.a

• 1

  [document] Document 200376.

• 2

  [date] The date has been underlined by Colette at a later time in thick ballpoint ink.

• 3

  Mitchell Colonel J.B. Mitchell of the United States Army. For information on him, see BRACERS 19366, n.4.

• 4

  Maurice Maurice Elvey (1887–1967), film director. For further information on him, see BRACERS 19056, n.5.

Textual Notes

• a

  can. period added editorially