Eva Green

I have left my faith. Or it has left me. Thus, my prospects seemed only a long, dark corridor without an end. I have done things in my life for reasons that seemed right and even moral in their violent immorality. And now I stand without that God upon whom I have always depended. But please do not fear for me. I have no fear myself. The old monsters are gone. The old curses have echoed to silence. And if my immortal soul is lost to me, something yet remains. I remain. So I sign off now with hope, and, as ever, with love… Vanessa.

Post Script. I don’t know if you’ve ready access to news, but we learned today that Tennyson has died. The bells are still tolling. All the flags are at half-mast, and there are wreathes and funeral bands everywhere. London has gone into mourning. It’s a city of tears.

I’m sorry you feel so unloved. You are a beautiful monster. And there are those who could love you, and shall. Life awaits you.