Monday
Dearest –
Could you still care for me if I were in an orphanage? I came very near to taking the entrance examination today. No, of course, I wasn’t to enter as an orphan, but nevertheless you would have had to address my mail in care of the Jewish Orphan’s Home. — Now that I have presented a situation and aroused suspense, I will pause a moment to tell you that I love you – and that being done I shall continue with the denouement.
As you may know I have been very restless, and over the week end I learned of a position that sounded very alluring to my romantic and susceptive mind. The Jewish Orphan’s Home was in search of a young man to do the boys’ work. Really it sounded very attractive. I could imagine myself living with a gang of boys as their leader, – teaching them sports – perhaps conducting classes in some interesting subjects, – organizing, and really doing something different. That was the real appeal – to be doing something worth while and something different!
However, realities have crept in and have pricked the bubble. I had nearly made up my mind to apply and I think I could have secured the position, – but as usual something came up. The boss, the one who I do not embarrass with my undue affection, has been stricken with a nervous breakdown and we are swamped with work. Of course I couldn’t even consider a change now. Last week when I had very little to do I would have welcomed another opening. I am a veritable jellyfish when it comes to becoming settled upon the kind of work I wish to do. I am completing my eighth month of work and thus far I have accomplished nothing. Now it seems as though I should at least be within sight of some definite field that I like. I am not discouraged, but believe me I am very much disgusted.
Now that that cheerful little solo is off my mind I feel better. Undoubtedly you wish that you could say likewise. However, honey, as long as you are you, and so sympathetic, you will always have confidences piled at your door. Just to tell you such things seems to take the burden away, and I see myself as an idiot for ever having worried over the matter.
Your Sunday letter is here before me and I am wondering how I can answer it in such a way that you will feel sure of me. You aren’t sure, are you, dear? When I realize that you doubt, I feel as though I am caged and helpless. If I could only hold you and answer your doubts with my lips. I know you would feel safe in me. But then, darling, I feel the same way about you at times, and I wonder how you can ever really care for me. Stell, from your letters I can see that we pass through the same stages of doubt and desire. Your words at times seem to come from my own thoughts and always from my heart.
As to your feeling towards Bea, I am a little surprised but glad that you were frank dear, because otherwise you would have been in doubt and I would seem to be in a false position. You know that you were never overshadowed by anyone else when we were with others. I have been trying to recall any incident that may have happened that night we were at the Hallenden, but I can not think of anything that may have impressed you wrong by. Estelle, you are not first with me, for there is no first nor second – you are all.
Really, dear, I am looking forward to the evening when you will let me tell you of all my so-called affairs. It will not be in the nature of a duty, but I feel that I want you to know everything. Otherwise you will never appreciate how much you do mean to me.
Estelle, you struck a sore spot when you said one doesn’t like to feel as though our love is a terrible thing, – to be hidden. It will be the proudest moment of my life when I can tell my world that you are mine. I don’t see how we could keep it a secret if we did wish to, – and we most certainly don’t. People are not blind. When I look at you, dear, anyone with any perception could see and know that my eyes are calling you to me. When I visit you and care for no one else they will know that I want you, – and when you permit me to be with you so often they will begin to think that perhaps you care a bit for me or else you would chase me out as a pest.
It is going to be hard. We love each other and want each other in the only way a real man and woman can. I feel as though you were part of me! – But still even though we are so close we can not at the present even go through the formality that society recognizes as engagement. (Esetelle, you have been engaged before, – do you feel that being engaged would mean that we meant anymore to one another?) Isn’t it paradoxical? My gracious girl, I couldn’t love you any stronger were we engaged a thousand times.
I am not asking, and am not a cad enough to ask such a sacrifice upon your part. You would not wish me to ask it of you, for the inhibitions it would bring would soon make you realize the real selfishness of my action. I often wonder whether I did not act selfishly by first telling you of my love and crowding maybe myself into your thoughts before I could take you for my own. It has been pounding against the wall I attempted to build to steam it, but as soon as the uncontrollable words were out the wall was swept away by the torrent. I take everything and can give so little in return!
I know that I have told you this so many times, but, dear, it just wells out at times and can’t be stopped. I feel as though I were in your way and had no right to be. Of course you say you give me the right, – but have I the right to hurt the woman I love?
But, honey, I don’t always feel that way I sometimes forget that I must be unselfish, and then I want to come and take you regardless of what it may mean, – I had always considered myself to be very staid and quiet, but I find that I am very much a child of moods. Honey, I can only sum up my jumbled decisions in one one way and that is – “Miss Estelle Miller, I can’t and don’t ask you to wait for me to climb the ladder to a point where I can claim you, – I don’t ask you to wait for me – but believe me there will be trouble if you don’t!”
Please don’t be angry with me, Stell, and don’t think me half hearted. I am not I do love you and I want you. The whole trouble is that at times I feel terrible selfish for standing in your way – and I just must tell you. Do you mind my confessions, dear?
As to calling you by phone,I shall try to make it the end of this week. I think a good time would be after school Friday nite. I shall try to call from a place where I can feel free to talk as I wish. If my conversation seems to be restrained you will know that it is because others are intruding. I will call at about ten o’clock so you can be expecting me then. Be sure that you are along for I shall want to hear you tell me that you love me.
I have no other picture to send, dear. The only recent one I had was taken last year for our fraternity group. It came out very poorly, but if I can forage one up I will send it to you. I only had a couple made up as they weren’t so good, and I don’t know where I can get one. The only three I know of are scattered widely. George has one, Mother has one, – and the other is in Camden, New Jersey. – When may I expect one from you?
Stell, I will try not to write many five page letters. I am afraid I can’t write a long letter every day, but I shall try to be with you as much as possible. I have so little time that I cherish every minute that I can be with you. Will you understand if occasionally it is only a note?
Love
Leon
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