Dear Mr. Darcy,

Elizabeth Bennet’s long overdue letter to Mr. Darcy

Dear Mr. Darcy,
This letter is not easy for me to write. I have been putting it off for quite awhile now, but I need to write it. I need to write it for you, and I need to write it for me.

First and foremost, I shall swallow my pride, and apologize. Please forgive me for misreading you. I was caught up with myself. I was caught up in my pride. I was caught up in my vanity. I was caught up with Mr. Wickham. All I wanted to be was desired. Mr. Wickham did desire me. Or at least I thought he did. That was all a sham. His vanity desired my attentions. Like my vanity desired his attentions, so really we are one in the same, Mr. Wickham and I. And you loved me through it all and despite it all. You loved me despite my vanity and my pride; while I blamed you for pride that I really knew nothing about. Please forgive me.

Next, I want to thank you. Thank you so much for loving me despite it all. Thank you for pursuing me. I realize now that the desire wasn’t enough. Desire without pursuit is nothing. You pursued me after I so harshly rejected you (or as Kathleen likes to say, after I was a total B.) You pursued me in a way that could be special only to me and me alone. You didn’t merely desire me. You loved me: quirks, attitude, spirit, lack of piano skills (or not any), and all. I cannot thank you enough for that.

You are a man. A man after my own heart.

And by a man after my own heart I mean you are not passive. I have had more than enough passivity in my life. I am no longer amused by it. How was I ever amused? Passivity is not attractive by any means. I would go on, but I will save you from the hot mess that seeps from my bitterness. Nobody wants to read that.

You are intentional. Pursuit: How can there be anything else? And you keep pursuing me to this day.
By man after my own heart, I mean you are not cryptic. You say what you mean. I need that.
By man after my own heart, I mean you are flawed, but you are willing to work at it.

By man after my own heart, I mean you put up with my strong spirit, (some might call it difficult) and you love it.

Mr. Darcy, I could go on, but let me save the public domain from the sappiness.

My sincerest apologies and firmest gratitude,
Elizabeth Bennet
(and special commentary and input by Kathleen)