After being continuously tortured by the first two weeks of college,I finally squeezed out time to do some light readings. I picked up my old "Pride and Prejudice" for the hundred-and-first time, and was once again lost in this world-renowned 19th century British romance.
I've wanted to write a small summary for this story, and once talking to a friend about this, she suggested me to write this down in form of a letter, and I did as she suggested.
Don't snort, don't shrug, it's just the work of a young modern girl trying to re-experience a fictional story by walking in the main character's shoes.
Dear Mrs. Darcy,
I’ve wanted to write this down for long. I’ve wanted to record this particular affection that subtly exerted influences on portraying my soul. You, from long ago to ever after, are the best tutor, the most pleasant companion, the brightest treasure of my life.
When I first came to Netherfield I thought I made a terrible decision. I’ve loathed the countryside for its uncreditable atmosphere, flippantly judging rural dwellers all ungracious, as if there were no exceptions.
Yet there you were at the ball, unlike all else, appearing like a delicate angel, illuminating the dancing hall and dimming every other girl around you. I could never possibly describe the feelings I had at that moment, they were much too complicated to be depicted in any language of humankind.
Well, arrogant as I was (as I found out much later), I presumed as usual that you must fall for my grandeur. Driven by my pride, I acted reserved while accosting you. I held the idea that, above all girls, you especially could not resist my charm. Now thinking again, I cannot recall where the confidence came from. You are as well educated----or even better----as I do, and your acuteness is far richer than I ever am, thus there is no reason why you have to regard me as a finer person.
Bingley and I discussed about if it is appropriate to marry a squire’s daughter, when he first shared his decision about proposing to your sister, Jane. With strong prejudice towards rural dwellers, I believed few of them could fall for a wealthy bachelor for not his money. Then I mentioned that you, the second Bennet girl, might be among the few who could. Bingley laughed at me, calling me an immature boy claiming to have found a soul-mate. I couldn’t reply because I found in surprise that he was probably right.
Gradually getting to know you, I realized that a peculiar impulse has manipulated most of my thoughts. As I headed back to Pemberley, I couldn’t help spent half of the days thinking about you, about which book you might be reading, to whom you were talking.
Therefore I was most excited to find at the dinner at my aunt’s that you showed up as well. Yet however buoyant I felt, I couldn’t be affable to you in front of my aunt. Nevertheless, an illusion occurred then that you deliberately intended to make conversations with me, and that was the moment I was mistakenly sure that you had the same feelings as I have for you.
I began to plan the proposal. I waited in midst of the path you took walk, tried to spill out the words at the first sight of your appearance, but somehow I failed every time. Instead I abashedly paced my way by your side, trying to enjoy the pleasure accompanying you with a blank mind.
When my aunt told me that you were heading back to Netherfield, I realized that I had to seize one last chance. I rashly came to you and proposed. You aghastly refused which depressed me. Now that I think of this, it was my irresistible pride and prejudice that made me commit this mistake. I should never imprudently regard you as one of the girls who easily fall for others. You are independent, self-conscious, and always able to establish your own viewpoint of others’ personality.
After a few days of grief, I found my love for you had changed. No patronizing taking part, I felt that I loved you as a noble young lady. I began to observe much more potentials in your spirit, and admire all of them.
Meanwhile I looked into myself and reconstructed my attitude towards people. I saw my shortages as well as others’ advantages, no matter a royal member or a burglar in the country. I gladly attended dinners whomever invited me and applauded every dish I deemed delicious, no matter how much it was worth. I praised your mother’s cooking strategy instead of being aloof for her unpleasant manner.
You humbled me.
And gradually I sensed a bit of approval from you, but after my one failure, I was no longer able to pick up the courage to make another proposal. I waited and I hesitated.
Then arrived my aunt, irritated, moaning about her trip to your family’s mansion. “She is absolutely a disgrace!” cried this lady, “that conceited goblin living in a mouse hole, she is challenging my bottom line!” When I asked for the specifics, I learned that you refused to accept her requirement of not marrying me.
I was filled with delight, for it was almost a distinct affirmation to the proposal I was about to make. I couldn’t wait to see you, hold you, kiss you by the lips, and speak out the words.
It seems long ago yet also seems had just happened. Our love has its ups and downs, but it led us to this most valuable present. I cherish this moment, and every moments with you in the future.
I love you, Mrs. Darcy. You have given me much more than I deserve.
Mr. Darcy
On Our Wedding's Day