Little sweetheart,
I’m heartily in favor of abolishing Saturdays because there is only one delivery of mail then, and so your letter, which comes in the afternoon, has to wait (and I also) until Monday. So today there was no word from my darling, but then Monday will be a feast day as there will be two or possibly three letters all at once. There will need to be after two whole days without sunshine. When I think of how independent I used to be it makes me realize that there has been a profound change, since I am now so utterly dependent upon you for happiness. And, dear heart, I’m so proud that you have made that true. I only hope that I can always keep your love, and be in some small measure deserving of it. You are going to be just what you want to be to me—wife, sweetheart, companion, friend, and beside this the deity of my place of worship. Every time I think of you I invariably feel something of the awe and reverence usually reserved my most persons for a God they can’t see or understand. Perhaps I can’t understand you—it is certain I can’t see you just now, excepting in my dreams. And I dream of you day and night. The witchery of your smile and the loveliness of your—what shall we call it?—personality, spirit, soul—have done nothing less than cause the unconditional and eager surrender of my heart—with the addition of my independence, for you now come far before me in all my plans and I do so look to you for everything.
Studied a little today, not much, but did hear some excellent music this afternoon, the Chicago and the Detroit Symphony Orchestras. Study must have a little more attention tonight though.
Are you still having rain? It is so cool here that I’ll be blamed if I don’t seriously consider building a fire. Hurry home so we can gather wood and then use that fireplace.
If this letter is to make the mail this evening it will have to go to the mail box. And if it sounds sort of incoherent it only reflects the result of your absence—think what I’ll be in another month! Goodnight darling,
I love you,
Harold