Saturday
Dearest Stell: –
It was strange that I should receive your Friday letter before the one you wrote Thursday. The Friday note came to the office this afternoon. In it you told me that you had written Thursday, so I called Charles and had him bring it downtown with him.
In the first letter I read you mentioned that you regretted mailing the Thursday letter, and of course I was on edge until I could read it, and know why. I didn't know what to expect.
Estelle, had you not sent that letter I would have missed one of the richest moments of my life. I can’t tell you how deeply you struck. You know, dear, in the love of every man for his woman there is a great deal of reverence, and it is at such moments as you have brought to me that our worship reaches the heights. I feel that it is beyond me to express the emotions that have me in their grip. I feel that your words are but answering my call. You express the things that are occupying my thoughts each hour of the day.
Honey, I soon recognized that your mission in life was to mother. I love you for it! It is strange that I should tell you that in the letter I sent this morning and that few hours later I should receive a letter from you asking me whether I had recognized that phase of your nature. But them, it isn’t strange – for our minds seem to run in similar channels though geographical miles lie between us. You know, Stell, this morning I mailed a request for your phone number, – this afternoon I receive your suggestion that I should call you. I am so glad that I beat you there, honey, as I wanted to be the one to suggest it. It has been on my mind since you left, but I have been waiting until I knew you could reach a phone. I shall not keep you up until midnight. I think that a call about ten would be wiser. Let me know what evening, and then be sure you are alone – for I want you tell me your heart and I know that if there are others present you will be unable to.
Stell, you are a woman and perhaps I can’t understand the depths of your love. The only measure I can use is the strength of my life centering in you. I know I shall never be able to move you as your words have moved me tonite. Dear, I have seen you as I wished to see you and as I had hoped that you could some day learn to care. Do you yourself realize that your desire is but a reflection of my own? Don’t you feel sure in your heart that I often beat madly against the artificial wall that is keeping us apart? You must feel the magnetic tension when I long so intensely for my Stell and my arms ache to hold you. – Oh, – I can’t express the intenseness of it all and perhaps I shouldn’t try, but I want you know that I long for you and at times it seems to reach the breaking point with me this new life is entirely a revelation, and each moment opens up new streams of depths of emotion that I had never conceived of. – My words seem disjointed and abrupt due to my attempts to express the inexpressible. Estelle, I am not shallow. I am intensely human beyond even what you think, – and I see and have been seeing our problem from a “man’s and woman’s” standpoint. I want our home, our children and our happiness, – and I ponder over possibilities until I sometimes see red. I am used to getting what I want and this waiting is unbearable.
Honey, I am not sensible tonite and I don’t care to be. I am just a man filled with you. Whether I shall be able to hold you depends entirely upon me. I am selfish enough to want you even though it may mean sacrifice to you. I am not going to be heroic and say, “Go your way, for I can not give you what you deserve in life.” I thought I could take that attitude but I am shaken tonite. I want you and I have a right to you as long as you return my love. It is true that marriage in the near future seems impractical, but if I let you go to others while I am laying foundations, – when I am able to ask you to be the mother of my home I shall find you gone. The present is ours and we shall live it so that we may realize a real and worth while future.
I have been glancing back and I can see how shallow words seem. How can these ink scratches convey to you the tumult of love and inspiration that your letter brought to me? I shall not attempt further for I feel that you may feel my words to be stilted. I will only answer your question, – Estelle, my dear, I do love you as a man – does not that explain it all?
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I smiled when you asked whether Charley ever suspected anything between you and me. Why, darling, he has brought me three letters from you on three successive nites. On those nites he has seen me sit up until after midnight writing to you. He says nothing, but he knows that we must be very close. Do not your folks realize that it is more than friendship that brings you a letter from me every morning? Tell me, Stell, what does your sister think of the situation?
Yes, I wear my glasses and my eyes have been very much relieved. My eyes will always be red, but I hope not as bad as they were.
Do you really want me to bore you with the few dates I have? I feel that I want to tell you as there is no kick when you are not there. I have not been out a great deal and I shall not go until you return. I do not write that to be polite, but because I get a great deal of satisfaction in telling you how much your absence is taking out of my life.
Please, Stell, always be frank with me as you have been. I love you for it and am inspired by your sincerity.
Leon
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