Gatsby Letters

Dear, Gatsby,

Guilt never really makes sense, does it? I don’t feel guilty about the fact that I could have stopped you and Daisy from driving when you were both emotional. There is no point in “what-ifs” in terrible situations like that. When I think of that yellow car and the destruction it caused I feel grief, but never guilt. Thinking about spending over a day calling every acquaintance, enemy, and friend you have ever made, however, brings me an unreasonable amount of guilt. I say unreasonable because it is not my fault I was your only friend, but somehow that is still what guilts me the most. The name Gatsby alone represented luxurious parties and glitz and glamour but in the end, the Great Gatsby had died alone. I have never met a man as hopeful as I did you, Gatsby. Some may have called your hope delusion or obsession, and I will not deny that it has definitely crossed my mind before. Being hopeful is something so rare in this world and for good reason; being hopeful and being a good man is a deadly combination nowadays.

While I said I do not waste my own time with what-ifs, sometimes I reflect on what I could change in my life if I were given the chance. I am almost ashamed of my, admittedly, most logical and most recurring answer- that I never would choose to have never gone to West Egg. Perhaps that is the answer I should pick, I could have kept to my own world and let this summer’s events play out without me. Against my best judgement, my answer would be that I would have stopped your meeting with Daisy altogether. I truly believe that your endless hope for a better life would have still led you to success even without Daisy as initiative. I feel the most grief in the fact that you never knew life was so much more than that green light on the dock. I wish I had met you sooner and helped you realize that. I never really knew you, Gatsby, but I wish I had.

By Mia Guzzo '21