26 October 1922

La Prieuré, Fontainebleau, Avon

My darling Bogey,
I was so glad to get your second letter today. Don't feel we are silently and swiftly moving away from each other. Do you really? And what do you mean by us meeting ‘on the other side'? Where, Boge? You are much more mysterious than I!
I have managed this badly for this reason. I've never let you know how much I have suffered in these five years. But that wasn't my fault. I could not. You could not receive it, either. And all I [am] doing now is trying to put into practice the ‘ideas' I have had for so long of another and a far more truthful existence. I want to learn something that no books can teach me, and I want to try and escape from my terrible illness. What again you can't be expected to understand. You think I am like other people - I mean - normal. I'm not. I don't know which is the ill me or the well me. I am simply one pretence after another - only now I recognise it.
I believe Mr Gurdjieff is the only person who can help me. It is great happiness to be here. Some people are stranger than ever but the strangers I am at last feeling near and they are my own people at last. So I feel. Such beautiful understanding and sympathy I have never known in the outside world.  [To J. M. Murry, 24 October 1922.]