My dear lady

My dear lady.

Forgive me for being so forward but I must speak. I have observed, for some time now, that you seem troubled. I have taken it upon myself to offer you words of comfort, if I may be so presumptuous. You place far too much stock in the ramblings of others of your sex. It is unnecessary. Although I may not suggest that you disobey your parent, I must caution you to listen with all your faculties intact. Said parent knows you well, and will seek to get her point across by possibly upsetting you, thereby goading you into words that you had no intention of uttering unprovoked.

Might I make a guess as to the reason of your unease? You might feel that the days pass by rapidly. Far more than you might have anticipated. Maybe you worry that you lose a certain chance by waiting?

Please, my lady. This you must put from your mind. There is a case to be made for solitary maneuvering. Just plain getting on with it. You listen too closely to the ramblings of other females who, I might say, do not know their own mind. You have a fine one, dear lady, a superb insight into the nature of the beast. Forgive my crassness.

I beg of you. Consider more carefully, and do not fret overmuch. You are unlike your tormentors, and you must bend only as the wind sways you.


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