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Something very strange is happening. For some reason, I’m unable to view Romeo’s blog page anymore. Perhaps he’s deleted his account? I daresay that would make me quite happy—maybe he’s finally ready to, as they say here, “buckle down” and really concentrate on getting us home. He did promise, after all, and Romeo is a man of his word. Or at least I think he is…
It’s been awhile since I’ve actually seen Romeo, and when I do, he’s been acting very strange. He’s started wearing a pair of sunglasses at all times, and has changed his wardrobe so that he is constantly wearing pastel plaid shorts. He’s not acting like the Romeo I know.
I will confide in you, my dear readers. I’m not sure that Romeo cares about me as much as he did when we first came here. Perhaps he’s overwhelmed with the newness of this place, but it seems like he is completely disinterested in the once passionate love we shared.
I know I keep iterating this, but I really want to return home. I suppose I haven’t given my real reason, though. It’s not just that this world makes me uncomfortable—I fear that I may be losing Romeo to this world. In Verona, we face the pressures of our families, but at least our love was unwavering. I would rather face the disapproval of my parents than lose the love of my life.
Many of you have been suggesting that I speak with him, and perhaps you’re right. I fear I can’t go on like this for much longer.
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First, I must thank all of my readers for their kind comments and words! How surprised was I, upon returning to this website to post this new entry, to find that so many kind people have taken an interest in both myself and Romeo!
I fear that, like Romeo, my speech is deteriorating into a more modern
manner. I can’t help it—I’ve attended so many different classes the past few days
that I feel as though my entire way of thinking has been altered.
I’ve actually been spending most of my time in the Art building, where many
students spend all day dedicated to perfecting the visual arts. I’ve always had
an affinity for painting, and the professor of the painting class I attended earlier
today said that I’ve shown promise and talent! It’s the first time I’ve had someone
truly appreciate my art, rather than encourage it solely as a hobby. Should I
pursue this passion, or might it interfere with my focus on returning home?
However hard I’ve tried to keep my distance from it, I keep feeling inexplicably
drawn to the department of History. I find the classes fascinating, albeit mildly
disturbing. Today I attended a lecture on a Civil War in a country I’ve never heard
of—the united something of something else. I find the lectures enthralling, but I
can’t help but feel strange about the whole thing.
Romeo has been around less and less. Our interaction today was limited to a
nod from him as we passed each other on the large patch of grass in front of the
Art building. He’s even been sending e-mails less and less often. Perhaps he fits
in better to this strange new place? He is closer in age to the people here. I just
pray he’s not lost focus.
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I’ve yet to see Romeo today, nor did we meet yesterday, and I am beginning
to wonder if perhaps his interests are elsewhere. I continue to receive e-mails
from him, but now they are no longer the heartfelt messages from before, but
simply forwards of, and I quote, “funny shit I found on Reddit.”
Romeo, if you are reading this, please know that my concern for you grows with
each passing day! Even your manner of speech is now strange and foreign to
me, and I fear that you have lost focus on our task to return home.
Yet, when we do return (as I have faith we will), I will surely miss the
companionship of the sisters here. They have all been so kind to me—in fact,
they extended me an honorary membership to the sorority! They said that I will
still have to attend formal recruitment in the fall, although hopefully by then I will
be back at home, married to Romeo!
Still, the sisters have been so kind to me. Today was Margaret’s birthday, and
we celebrated with cake and a very strange kind of wine. She’s twenty-one years
old—over half a decade my senior! Hopefully, they won’t realize, though I must
be certain to hide my ignorance of modernity when speaking with them, lest they
discover. I can only hope that Romeo is exercising the same caution.
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Days pass by, but still my love for Romeo grows! This marks the beginning
of my second entry on this strange device. One of the sisters here, Margaret,
attempted to explain to me how interaction with others is possible on such a
device as this, but still I find myself unable to make sense of this strange, new
technology. In fact, I’ve found it perturbing, to say the least.
Margaret appeared truly shocked when I revealed that I had very little
understanding of the functions of this device, and even more shocked when she
realized that I did not have an “e-mail address”—a way to send post through
the “internet.” Please forgive me if my terminology is lacking, but I am still so
confused by this new time and place.
As soon as Margaret added me to the register of internet postal service, I
immediately found myself practically swimming in messages from my beloved,
Romeo! It warmed my heart, of course, but also filled me with a great deal of
confusion, since we are, in fact, in the same location. I suppose that this is how
people communicate in this place, though, through the screens of these strange
devices, as I communicate to you right now.
But, as I discovered that there are others aside from Romeo who read these
posts, I will not bore you with the details of such petty things! Earlier today, I
accompanied Rachel, another sister in the sorority that is hosting me, to one of
her daily meetings—which she refers to as “class” (though, I must admit, many
of the individuals attending these meetings lack any sort of class at all!). Today’s
topic was one of history, which intrigued me instantly. However, this history was
strange—we did not speak of the great Roman empire, Agincourt, or any of the
other topics of which I am accustomed to speaking. Instead, we spoke of a great
war, referred to as “World War II.”
At first I thought that, surely, I must be in a different world entirely, not just farther
along in time. But, now I am less sure. I worry that my presence here may affect
the natural course of history. I just want to return home, to Verona, back to where
everything makes sense.
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O, Romeo, that we do find ourselves in this strange new land has
safeguarded thee in my heart! My countenance is bright, that you do
proclaim your love so steadfastly! Aye, ‘tis true that we find ourselves weary
travelers of some land wrought with witchery, but I do trust that you will lead us
back where we belong.
My love, while fear treads close to me always in this place, your near presence
calms the uneasy spirits deep within me. Perhaps this is, indeed, truly a
blessing—for here, our names are but clothing we can cast aside and our
families are distant memories, far out of reach.
Yet, that we have found shelter in this temple of education shows that fate is on
our side. I have even been graceful adopted by a group of young women called
a “sorority”—I’m not sure quite what it is, but I assume it is a modern convent.
They have all welcomed me openly, not realizing that my age lags behind theirs,
perhaps due to my beauty and maturity. These sisters attend meetings which
occur thrice per week, all on the subject of literature, mathematics, philosophy,
or what you will. I admit, I allowed my curiosity to take hold of me, and I followed
one sister to one of these meetings: my love, how glorious it was!
I must leave now and retire to bed. Until we speak once more!
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