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Virginia Woolf's final letter to Leonard, dated 28th of March 1941.


"...Dearest, I feel certain that I am going mad again. I feel we can't go through another of those terrible times. And I shan't recover this time. I begin to hear voices, and I can't concentrate. So I am doing what seems the best thing to do. You have given me the greatest possible happiness. You have been in every way all that anyone could be. I don't think two people could have been happier till this terrible disease came. I can't fight any longer. I know that I am spoiling your life, that without me you could work. And you will I know. You see I can't even write this properly. I can't read. What I want to say is I owe all the happiness of my life to you. You have been entirely patient with me and incredibly good. I want to say that - everybody knows it. If anybody could have saved me it would have been you. Everything has gone from me but the certainty of your goodness. I can't go on spoiling your life any longer."

Its true, without me you could work. Perhaps I too could concentrate in your absence. I could not keep you perpetually waiting and continue robbing you of opportunity. My sleeping patterns are slowly getting back to normal. At least I'm not waking up at 3pm. I woke up at 1:30am instead, it would've been nice to wake up in another 5 hours. Surely I'm slowly getting there on my own. Group presentation today. Seriously I want to punch my group members sometimes, they get on my nerves...






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