The City and the House
Natalia GinzburgRome, 15th October
My dear Ferruccio,
I booked my ticket this morning. I leave in six weeks, on 30th November. I sent off my three trunks a week ago. There are books, suits and shirts in them. Phone me when they arrive. I know how much you prefer the telephone to letters. I’m the opposite.
I am very happy to be leaving. I am very happy that I’ll see you again. My life here has become difficult recently. I couldn’t breathe any more. When I decided to come and see you I was able to breathe again.
I am also very sorry to be leaving. I think I shall miss certain people and places I’m strongly attached to. I don’t think I’ll make new friends. I’ve become rather solitary over the years. I have had some friends here, not that many, and I shall miss them. But there has to be something to put up with. I shall be with you and that will mean a great deal to me. I am very fond of you, as you know, and I have been painfully aware of your absence all these years. Your visits were short, and few and far between. I enjoyed them, it’s true, but at the same time they upset me because they were short and because I was always afraid I bored you; I was always afraid that being with me meant very little to you.
I often wonder whether you are pleased that I’m coming. True, it was you who told me to come, but sometimes I feel that perhaps you regretted this afterwards. But if you have had regrets, let’s say no more about it at this stage. I have booked my ticket and I am definitely leaving. I will try to be as little financial trouble to you as I can.
I am coming to America like someone who has decided to throw himself into the sea and hopes he will emerge either dead or new and changed. I know this kind of talk irritates you, but this is what I feel and I want you to know.
With love from,
Giuseppe