Dear Violet,
I do not know when you came into my life, just that I didn't know I was capable of forgiving myself until I saw you. You were doing the rounds among the people I knew, the new kid in town with the blonde hair and blue eyes and mysterious case. Nobody knew where you were from, what your story was, just that you were beautiful and mysterious and somehow you didn't seem to exist, except in our hearts and minds.
And then one chance night, wracked with insomnia, I pulled you out and I talked to you and I listened to you too. And Violet, you have my heart now. I saw your journey, of how the Major came by you, of how you fought by his side in the war and how he ordered you to live, how his choice to treat you with dignity and not as a tool affected you, confused you and set you off on your quest to find out about emotional quotient and empathy and in that process, how you found yourself.
At first, you made me cry. It was as if I was watching A Farewell to Arms unfold in front of my eyes. Then, I found out about the things you did in the war and I was reminded of your elder associate Battousai the Manslayer, although in his time things were different. I remember tearing up when the Major bought you that brooch and how you would keep it tied about your neck at all times.
It is difficult to describe how I feel about you, there are layers to you I have yet to discover. I think I will have to go back and experience meeting you again even though I'm told that the first time is always the charm with things of beauty such as you.
Most of all, what you did as an Auto Memory Doll stayed with me. How you learnt to respect your work, how you proved that Hodgins wasn't wrong about you and how, in the process of writing those letters you learnt to come to terms with your humanity and proved to your own self that yes you do have a right to live. And the crises of faith, when you were in the war, holding a gun and taking lives, the memories that haunted you, the ghosts from your past- you overcame all of that and proved you are not just a tool to be used for killing.
It is quite evident that writing letters is important, delivering them is important. Just today, I am slated to get a book in the mail. I appreciate the courier that will bring it.
I love how you make simple things seem so profound and I am reminded of O'Henry when I think back to the experience I had while watching your story being told. I have now mentioned one of my favourite books as well as one of my favourite authors in this letter.
I also owe you one for reminding me that when I started this now 12 year old site, I did it because I was arrogant and angry and wanted to prove people wrong. I was acting under orders. Like you, I have come to find that in my own way, by being able to touch so many lives through this site, by communicating with many like minded people and by making friends who appreciate the written word, like you, I too no longer need orders.
And so, Violet Evergarden, I ask that you live. For in living you have taught me how precious life is and that the life given to us should not be wasted or frittered away.
In Gratitude
The Bilge Master
