07 November

7 November 1920

Villa Isola Bella Menton, France

Love don't let this make you sad or worry you or anything like that. Just put it aside for future reference (I hope you'll never need it) and never forget that living alone is the devil for me: it starts all my terrors to life. You know that from experience. Just as I am more sensitive than other people to other people so I am, I suppose to myself. I always notice that when I am with people these frights and premonitions die away -and I forget "whether I am going mad" or not (!) I suspect most writers of my kind share my nervousness, but in my case its immensely accentuated by illness.
What a perfectly horrid letter - and written on the divinest evening. Ive just seen all the anemones are up, too. Thats much nicer than talking about my old head.
I wish Fergie would give us some little models. I always feel artists ought to give away their works more than they do - for some reason. Ill post you my photos on Wednesday. One is looking bang at you like you asked for and one half-bang.
You will understand this letter as I mean you [to] wont you darling?
If I feel you do it relieves me to have told someone: to have broken the silence about it. My head feels better already. What a wife!
Wig. [Letter to J. M. Murry in Collected Letters, 6 November 1920]