695 Est. Grande-Allée et 1210 Place Georges V
Québec 4, Canada.Hôtel Château Laurier Inc.
QuébecNew Haven, 19 May 1965
1:00 PMDarling Stef,
Thank you for calling last night. It was a most welcome interruption! I felt wonderful sitting on the couch in my pajamas (which, by the way, shrunk in the wash - now they fit. You'll see!) in the completely darkened room, talking to you on the phone. It's funny, but when the phone rang, I had a hunch it was you (probably because I had debated calling you earlier). Once again, thanks, darling.
Re what we discussed: your mother, as we both realize, is completely and undeniably correct in what she says. She is as well the voice of reason as that of experience, and we both must recognize that both reason & experience have little sympathy with the wild-eyed madness of two young idiots! Life, however, must be as much dreams and madness, as it is reason and experience, so we may both take inspiration & hope. I know you too well to convince myself, that for the sake of us both, I don't want to know you better. That would be ridiculous and a damned lie (pardon my French). I love you. I want to do everything with you, to see the world thru your eyes, to breathe the air thru your lungs, to smell the fragrances thru your nose. That may seem funny, but I'm quite serious (perhaps even mad. Does that frighten you?!). You're darling and I'd like to make you my (darling), as much as I'd like to be yours (can you imagine anyone thinking of me as darling?!!). We can dream, can't we?
I was talking to Hank at lunch today. He says your coming down on Saturday would hurt us both. I can't agree with him as far as I'm concerned (you do wonders for me), but that only makes it appear more selfish on my part. Please, dear, don't even consider making the trip if you don't feel you can afford it. Seriously, I'm willing, at this point, to sacrifice some of "us" for you. I don't want our relationship to interfere (that's putting it mildly!) with your studies. It has done so too great an extent already, and I care for you too much to want you here so I can enjoy your company when it would mean doing poorly in school. I want you to call me Friday to let me know if you're not coming (otherwise save the money!) and I seriously want you to think about the advisibility [sic] of staying at school. (I'd come up to visit, but there's no time - I have that exam to take!). You owe that much to "us". Whatever you decide, darling, I still love you. I can wait to see you, even if it is a whole month, if I know that I must. Try me - you'll see I'm responsible (somewhat), understanding (sometimes), and loving (all the time!).
Part of my difficulty in all this stems from my own acute sense of insecurity. For some reason, I've always been, & continue to be, a worrier. Even when things are rosiest, I find things to worry about, tho I'm not that bad when things look bleak (that prompts me to act rather than worry). At this point, things couldn't be rosier (a wonderful girl to be in love with, dreams for the future, a satisfying present, a wonderful, if short (100 days!), past), yet I worry. Who can be sure of anything? Who knows what the future will bring? It's one thing to say "¡qué será será!" and yet another to have an interest and a stake in what happens. One can't do both, and at the moment, I've quite an interest in the future (therefore I can't say "whatever will be, will be" and mean it - I don't want certain things to happen!). Yet what am I to do? Can I change anything by myself? Can I (should I) ask you to sacrifice years of your life, years of happiness, to wait for me? Certainly not, yet it's just possible that things will mark time between now and 4 years hence, and then I will be able to change the situation by proposing. What a remote, yet wonderful possibility! I can't help but dream about it, and even communicate my dreams to you. Forgive me, darling but that's me. I don't believe one should purposefully delude oneself (or allow oneself to be deluded). That's the reason for my insecurity - I realize too well that dreams are but delusions and I want to spare myself the bitter disillusionment that follows awakening. Still, sometimes the dream is worth dreaming, for its own sake, and justifies being dreamt, in spite of the impending return (not pleasant) to harsh reality.
Such a dream is you, so forgive me, darling, for dreaming, but please don't stop me!
Love,
Lar