WHEN A WOMAN LOVES A WOMAN

Dear Miss Complainer:

In reply to your latest complaint regarding my tendency to depict
woman-to-woman relationship tinged with romantic nuance in some of my fictions, I would like to share the following with you:

First, with all due honour, I hereby request that you take off your religion-tinted glasses when you read my fictions, and whenever you try to discuss my fictions with me. Once you raise the issue of religion, then there’s no point going further with the discussion, because as we both fully understand, religion dogma is not debatable. And because we understand that mentioning religion teachings while poking about the faults of my fiction is simply bizarre. Of course my fictions don’t go along with any religious teachings you can think of. My fiction is the work of a sinful, lowly human, done without any intention to drive any dogma into my readers’ brain, because I know my readers are intelligent enough not to get fooled into acting out my fictions. I know my readers are mature enough to distinguish facts from fictions. Some of my readers are mature enough to accept the fact that a person might fall in love with another in many ways, in ways unlimited to race and age and social background, yes, and regardless to the other person’s sex.

Secondly, I am fully aware of your intelligence too. I am fully aware of your ability to distinguish facts from fictions. Acutely, I know that you know that we both know the reason you become so bitter about all this, the reason why suddenly you attacked me brutally, angrily accusing me of being a filthy, immoral writer.

Dear Miss Complainer,
I am mature enough to accept the fact that person might fall in love with another in many ways. I am mature enough to accept the fact that you have fallen helplessly in love with me.
Sometimes you want me to be a man, so that you can love me freely, legally, in accordance to all religious teachings you can think of. But you don’t want me to be a man, because you fall in love with this person you don’t want to change, because you love me for me --- for the woman that I am. I know that it is very painful for
you to acknowledge this feeling has grown inside you and that it has grown so big inside your chest.

Lastly, I know that you would rather die than ever admitting that you love me.

And I know that you have died more than a thousand times when I am not around, when you admit to yourself how much you love me.



Sincerely yours,
L.S.