A Letter to Rhett Butler

Dearest Rhett,

I miss you. I wish you were here. I have sent all my letters along with Prissy to the post, and I can only hope they are reaching you. It would help a great deal if you would tell me where to send them to. It would help even more greatly if you would answer them. I wish you would come back, and every day I hope that I will see you riding up to Tara, shouting and yelling as you used to. Maybe tomorrow... But nevermind that. As much as I wish you were here, I am sure you wish that you knew what was going on with us all.

Wade and Ella are both growing big, bigger and louder each day. Or that's what Mammy tells me. They still look at me strangely, but I am trying to convince them to love me as they should. They only loved one of their parents, and that was you. They spend most of their time with Mammy, though Will Benteen is trying to teach Wade about the running of the plantation. Everyday I see them riding about the fields, Will talking to poor Wade. He looked so bored that two days ago I called him in just so he could have some fun. However, I still wish Wade would take more interest in this, because unless Suellen manages to have a son he will inherit Tara. Speaking of Suellen, she has been sick a lot lately, and as much as I loathe her for what she did to father, we need her healthy to keep Tara going. We already are losing help as it is. Mammy is growing old, and just the other day she said to me, "Mah bonez hurtin somethin bad today, Miss Scarlett, and yun Ellen needs ter slow down sum so I kin keep up." I'm surprised she is so old. To think that she nursed my mother, her children, and now my children too! Fiddle-dee-dee! Pork died last winter, as you should know by now. I have mentioned it in half the letters I wrote, so you must have heard by now. You must come here and help, because we only have me, Will, Prissy, and whatever free darkies we can find to care for the fields. And with the way Prissy and the darkies work, you would think it is just me and Will! We desperately need you here, Rhett. Please come home.

Ashley visited the other day, and there had never been a more awkward scene than when he rode up and asked to stay for a while. You should know that I felt nothing towards him and that I sent him away after two days. He looked truly miserable, too. I think Melly's death hit him hard, for he never laughed when he was with us, and he looks at least fifty years old. It is strange how age works. You are forty-six, but you never seemed older than thirty when we were together, excluding that awful time after Bonnie's death. Ashley is only thirty-eight, but he ever since he was young he has always seemed to carry the burden of time of a man twice his age. I think that a person chooses the burden they bear, and until recent events, you, my dear, chose the light one.

But let me not pull you down into my musings, because I know you will laugh at me when you read this. You never did allow me to think like that. I need you here to keep me the way I was, free and pretty and wild. If you were here, we could be free and rich and gloriously extravagant again. We could recreate the Tara of my childhood! You must come back, and we can be together!

I am not one for praying, but I pray that you are getting these letters. I can never trust Prissy to get anything done right around here, including taking your letters into town. Just the other day she dropped them in the mud and came back four hours later and I had to rewrite them. She is the stupidest darky I have ever seen, and a beating would do her such good! I hate these laws! There are so many darkies out there that need a good beating, no matter what the Yankees say! I am sure you are out there laughing at me as always, but you need to come back and scare some sense into the darkies. God knows they need it.

Rhett, please come home to me. I need you here. You must come back. If you return, I will try my hardest to be a perfect wife and to love you forever, though it never seemed like you ever needed such things. But I need you, and I am sure you are out there somewhere, needing me. Please come home.

Always yours,

Scarlett Butler