I really did write a letter to Henry Cavill, which I truly intended to send, and would have.
As I tried to perfect the articulation of my thoughts, the more I realised, bugger, it's still not at all about him. How could it be, when I don't know the man.
Like a typical crazy eevil genius, I found myself bloody monologuing. Gah!
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprise of great pitch and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry
And lose the name of action.
The letter will therefore never be posted.
NOT because people have told me I couldn’t possibly approach an actor. It remains preposterous that I should somehow be intimidated by his fame, or that I couldn’t relate to him as an equal human being.
NOT because my chances were slim. Why should I be daunted by the probability, when millions regularly bet on winning the lottery? Plus my university application was once accepted by Cambridge, and I’m pretty sure more people have tried for that chance. Eliciting a reply from someone is not only possible but also doable.
Moreover, in a genuinely mad world where inconceivably insane situations happen all the time, why should sending a letter be regarded as an act of lunacy? I was resolute that the earnest endeavours of writing to someone shouldn’t necessarily be subject to ridicule.
The significant truth is that he is engaged, and has veritably chosen someone to be his wife. I have to respect that.
I just wondered by any chance you wouldn’t like to…
No, No, of course not.
I’m an idiot.
Sorry to disturb. Better get on.
In spite of my rebellious teenage spirit, the stronger want is to do the right thing, and sometimes it’s not quite what serves our own selfish interests.
Thus, this Wonder Woman has restrained herself with her own lasso.
The only thing I ever really wanted to say with that letter was wrong, was wrong, was wrong. Here’s where this story ends.
Finally, no letter, no matter how well written, would ever do me justice.
Pursuing the inspiration was nevertheless worthwhile. At least my plan was better than James Blunt’s in that ‘You’re Beautiful’ song.* Now I’m thinking, ooh, perhaps I should attempt to give a future TED Talk on the subject of such ‘superdickery’...
Hope all is well with you in Perth!
Crazy Mini Me x
*reference is on suitability of lyrics for the scenario, and not at all indicative of general musical preference.