Felix to Irina, June 1913.
“How strangely fate brings people together. Did I ever think that your small, inexperienced head already held such firmly established views on life, and that you and I understand and feel it in the same way? There are very few people like you and me in this world, and it’s almost impossible for others to understand us. You and I, in general, are deeply unhappy. We both thought that no one understood us, and that we were the only ones who felt this way. We met and immediately sensed, with some kind of supernatural instinct, that we would understand each other, as our evening conversation in the garden proved. I am certain that you and I will be happier than anyone else has ever been. Our happiness should lie in the commonality of our views and thoughts and the actions that flow from them, which should be known only to us and no one else. We will treasure this as a sacred treasure, and even our best friends will never suspect what is the key to our happiness.”
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