August 12th, 1949
Dear you,
Missing you terribly. Missing you more, perhaps, than you’ll ever know. By day I keep myself busy—I admire the sights that are both grand and quiet, and I keep a steady focus, not dwelling on what might have been (no matter how delicious). The nights are harder to tame, and my slumber light.
Yours in crumpled sheets tied up with longing,
X