art by Cher Jiang Yale Station: Letters of Love |
|
![]() | |
April 22, 1947
7:05 P.M.
Hello again My Dearest --
My Goodness but I'm writing under peculiar
circumstances today. First behind the boss' back
at the News and here at the magazine office waiting
for my other boss to come. I'm getting as unpredictable
as you!
Sunday was a wonderful day. The happiest I've
ever known. I've said that before but strangely enough
it's true each time. So again I ask myself the
old question, "How much more perfect can things become?"
Lynne gave the gals the low-down on you Monday.
Decided I was right. You are different! Also related
that we were so preoccupied with one another that we
hardly knew they were there. Mr. Bostick can this be
so? Have we fallen so deeply in love or is it simply
thet we must crowd so much into such a short space of
time? After all they were in love too but there did not
seem to exist that certain vibrant something between
them.
Lots of times it seemed I was impatient with you
for professing your love so frequently but there
are moments like this one that I would give anything to
somehow be able to hear you say, "I love you, Miss
Greatrex", like no one in the world could.
There is absolutely no reason why I should ache
for you. Everything is perfect. You love me and I love
you and there isn't a cloud on the horizon and yet I
find it intolerable being so far away from you. Also
and this is not so good, I'm painfully uninterested in
almost everything and everybody.
Wore my new low shoes for the first time today.
Everyone was most surprised since I never have in all
these four years worn them. Someone dared remark, "Mmm,
if it was after June I wouldn't be surprised at those
low shoes!"
Am once again writing a lot of nonsense, I know.
But I love you so and must make contact somehow. For-
glve me.
It was a heavenly day. A little cool but so clear
and bright. It should have been our Sunday,
This is enough of empty conversation, my busy one.
Good Night -- I love you!
|