Wasn’t it fun darling! Every minute of it is treasured in my mind. Yes, even the tender shiver of pleasure that I felt run through you when you tasted that kiss.
I’m starting to go to daily Communion this voyage, to thank God for his lovely blessing, you. I hope I don’t get in the habit of writing mental letters. Oh it’s good, in a way, I say things much more eloquently, but they are mental and you can’t read my them, or can you? Perhaps you love me enough and are close enough to me in spirit to read my thoughts. From the thrilling feeling of your love in my arms I wouldn’t doubt the possibility of it.
Oh darling, I love you! I love you! I love you! I love you!
This ship is absolutely maddening. Always at sea! First, plowing Southward, ever, southward, each day 400 miles further away from “home”. Then after 19 days, we turn north and push, push, push, uphill across the broad waist line of the earth, past the Statue of Liberty, into New York. FOR WHAT? Only a FEW precious hours in which to feel the rich, warm, loving, softness of my beloved in my arms. Then, plow southward separating us 400 miles each day, racing past Latitude lines as though they were merely cracks in the sidewalk in front of the house.
I need more of you. You need more of me. THIS IS ONE HELL OF A STRAIN ON BOTH OF US.
Oh! That the time were here already, when I would shut off the light, climb into bed, curve your body next to mine, and your head nestled in it’s favorite spot, and just relax, and bath myself with the glow of our fulfilled love. Just to lie there like that through the sweet velvet blackness of the night enveloping us with an overpowering blanket of sweet, tender, of fulfillment. Ah my darling! My sweet, lovely, beloved cyclone, how I love you!
I would die content if I could but have you now, this night, instead of the pain, and the unavoidable Technicolor dreams! Truly I know what it means to love so deeply, and strongly, that it hurts!
Darling, I’m speechless! I miss you so urgently tonight that I can’t even find anymore words to express it. I just sit here, all “cyclone” inside and can’t put anything on paper- except,
Dearest heart, ever true,
Love me always, as I love you.