It’s late in the night. I’m tired, yet I can’t go to sleep. Have you ever lain in your bed, your head lost in the pillow… your teeth clenched so tight that they’ll keep you from screaming out loud - all because you miss somebody so very much? It’s a miserable feeling. My eyes cry desperately for sleep, they are ready to close and die away. But my mind can’t. Thoughts violate its peace like a swirling tornado. And one persistent thought keeps imposing itself on the others: I want to see her. Please, I’ve got to see her.
I remember what you said the other night - that you’re scared… so am I… but I’m also desperately in love. In love with everything in you and about you. In love with your thoughts, in love with your face, in love with your feelings and emotions. Is it wrong to feel this way? All I know is that right now the way I feel is the way of my life. And I’ve always believed that there’s nothing I care about more than the way of my life.
There must be something wrong with the world, I think. Why should we be afraid of what we feel, of what we think? Why should they be right and we wrong? It’s not just a matter of a woman falling in love with another woman, it’s a whole way of approaching life, a whole series of beliefs and feelings and ideals that is at stake. And I’m too selfish, too self-confident to accept theirs instead of mine. In a way, I’m scared only because you are. I didn’t want to cause you any trouble… but for myself I don’t care. I’m in love. What does it matter whether it’s a man or a woman? Love is wonderful, beautiful in all its forms and aspects. Love is love.
I love you, Judy. I say it and I don’t care, I’m not ashamed. I want to say it again and again. I love you Judy. Judy, I love you.
— from Dear Sappho: A Legacy of Lesbian Love Letters, collected with permission by Kay Turner