Dear E.M. Forster,

You died ten years before I was born, and there are a lot of things in the world I live in that you didn’t even conceive of. There were probably a lot of things in your world that I can’t conceive of, too. I’m a woman, bisexual, and I’m from the future; you were a gay man. Of all the readers in the world, your ground-breaking, beautiful, heart-rending book was not written for me. But I’m here to tell you that doesn’t matter.

What I want to say to you is this: Thank you. Thank you for your bravery. Thank you for writing a book that told the truth, that told your truth plain and clear. I appreciate it so much. You affected me so deeply and made me so happy, made me feel the feelings of the characters… and I wish you were around so that I could tell you. I wish you were still alive so that you could know that what you said in that book is still true and still a revelation in some ways. That no matter who you love, you deserve a happy ending.

Thank you for writing what you wrote and saying what you said. I don’t know much at all about the life you lived, but I hope that you yourself found the happy ending you were brave enough to write for your character. I hope you found the love you needed. Because in a funny way (although my issues with romance have nothing to do with my sexual orientation) your book gave me a small amount of hope that maybe I can, too.

Thank you.