It's Christmas day, sure has come quickly

Readers it’s Christmas day I wish you all a wonderful day, thinking back to last Christmas, I was blogging while spending my Christmas at Lowood. I’ve surely had an adventurous year, now I’m spending my first Christmas with a remarkable family; this is truly a delight to my mind and a wonderful warm feeling to my heart. However I’ve tried to consider. St.John likes to be in control, he wants things to be done his way, and I want freedom, that’s all I’ve ever wanted. My senses are only directing me to the very fact, that I and St. John do not love each other as man and woman should. I am only suited to England, He can be suited to India. The feeling of weakness loneliness and disappointment lays in me. How would you feel reader? Unaware, ecstatic, anxious, what would your heart be telling you? would your mind have mutual feelings to your heart?

No compassion for me

In my last post I told you I would inform you about St. John, well here I go. St. John has asked me to marry him. St. John has asked me to be his wife. I know you’ll probably want to read that again. It came as a surprise to me too. I think this is immoral. This is not because he loves me; this is because he wants company in India. He wants me for my wits. I wouldn’t survive the climate in India. He shows no love towards me, his heartless towards me, very cold. I have no obligation to go with this missionary man. He almost hates me and he expects me to acquire to his request. He speaks of nonsense; I speak sense. What would you do if your cousin asked to marry you?

St. John plays with my thoughts

Reader I hope you remember my most recent post; St. John makes my heart quiver. Edward wouldn’t dream of making me feel like this. The way St. John looks into Diana and Marys eyes, with so much passion, brilliance and admiration. I feel that I’m an outsider to him; I feel it in my bones when he is around me. St. John is a good man. He works for God. His striking faith his unquestionable work as a clergyman. He honours my intelligence, tells me my French is brilliant. Could he be jealous? Maybe he thinks I’ll take away the close bond, him Diana and Mary have, I hope you do know that St. John is my cousin. I and he are different you see; he works for God, I pray to God. St. John has always had money. I haven’t. His always had sisters, I haven’t, not even one.

I’m forgetting I haven’t mentioned why I’m so worried about mine and St. Johns relationship. It’s all too much for me. I shall inform you readers. But for now let me tell you about the terrible dream I had last night, it woke me up and I couldn’t sleep after. It was about Edward, his psychotic wife pushed Edward off Thornfield roof, while a fire was occurring in Thornfield. The doctor in my dreams was trying to calm down my hysterical cry. He said that Bertha Edwards psychotic wife thought she was pushing him into sand. She thought she was in the sea, in her old town of Coulibri in Jamaica. I’m trying not to think any think by it. Should I take it as a sign reader?