"Jean Dearest:
Do you realize that this is THE week- and Saturday night is THE night of nights!! Will you be happy?? I will- only if you are- for my happiness depends on your being happy at being with me. Rather an involved sentence but translated it simply means- I love you.
The things I want you to say?? I think you can guess, heart o'mine, and 'twould spoil the beauty of them if I told you. I want you to say what you feel- not repeat what I ask you to.
Jean- one thing I do ask of you. If ever you discover that you don't care- that you can't care- please tell me. I have hoped so strong- planned so much- that my whole life will need readusting.
I have often wondered just how it would feel to be in love. And now that I know I am fearful lest something steal all the wonder and the beauty and the sweetness. O, sweetheart, I wish I could make you feel as I feel. Love is something we cannot demand, we cannot buy- we can only beg for it- pray for it.
I offered you my heart and you said you'd keep it for me. But you cannot give it back, Jean, you can keep it- or break it- there is no other alternative.
Your two letters- the last two- were so different, dear. They sounded as if- they frightened me- friendly little letters- that were somehow cold- impersonal. Perhaps if I weren't so heart-hungry I wold not have noticed them- but somehow I did. Please, dear, it was my imagination, wasn't it? You do still care a little, don't you.
To see you, to be near you, to talk with you again, will be so wonderful!!!
So your mother laughed!! How do you construe that? Your folks must suspect something, Jean. Just what is their attitude? Would they raise a fearful objection if I left five pounds for Alpha Xi Delta?
I have a job now, And someday your folks won't object, I hope. The the answer will be wholly up to you. What will it be?
Entirely & eternally yours
Bob"