Vic, writing to Greg from College
Hi Love. I’ll probably hold on to this letter for a couple days, until I hear from you, but I’ll write a little whenever there is anything to say. If I finished it now, and sent it tomorrow, it would probably consist of miscellaneous expressions of unrequited love – very maudlin (that means “tearfully sentimental” – I looked it up), and it would cause us both to dwell on just how miserable we are when we’re apart. We don’t need to be reminded of that, do we? So, as Sergeant Joe Friday would say, from here on it will be “just the facts.”
Greg's response, writing from the Wildlife Refuge
I’m a little ashamed and embarrassed to confess that I haven’t sent anything to you this week. I pretty well ran out of significant things to say on Monday. At least, I ran out of ways to make them sound interesting. All there is to tell you is that I band ducks morning and evening, drive around the refuge, work in the office, and play checkers with your dad.
Actually, that’s far from all, so I’m going to say what’s really on my mind. In your letter, you said you weren’t going to be maudlin, and you were just going to stick to the facts. That really said a lot about how you are feeling, without you actually saying it. Well, the time has come when I need to put my feelings right out front, maudlin and all. Vic, I ache for you. My body aches for you. My mind aches for you. I knew this separation was going to be difficult for us, but I never realized how difficult. It hasn’t even been two weeks, and I just feel adrift.
I look forward to making some serious physical love with you when we’re together again, but that’s not what I’m talking about now. I’m talking about how much I miss seeing you – how much I miss hearing your voice – how much I miss having conversations with you. Yes, I miss seeing your beautiful face – your lovely body – the way you move. Your voice captivates me – the way it changes when you’re being serious, and then again when there's mischief brewing. I just can’t talk with anybody else the way we talk – never have been able to – and it’s a wonder to me, and a blessing. In short, I am deeply in love with both the idea of you, and the reality of you. I love you, Victoria Anderson!
After writing this, I feel both happy and sad. I suspect you will feel the same when you read it. One thing I have realized is that three weeks is much too long to be apart. I think we should try to figure out ways to be together more often. I don’t know how, but I’m working on it.
I’m going to mail this in the morning, so you don’t have too long a gap between letters.
Love (as if you doubted it), Greg
Later, In Person
“There’s one other thing I wanted to be sure we talked about,” began Greg.
“Please, Greg, my brain is still buzzing from all the talk yesterday.”
“Believe me, this is good. You can handle it. You may remember in one of my last letters I said that three weeks was much too long to go without seeing one another.”
“I do seem to remember that letter. I think there was a part of it where you said something about both your body and your mind aching for me – about how much you missed seeing me and hearing my voice and watching my facial expressions.” She stopped, almost in mid-sentence, and he looked over at her, to see she was crying. “My god, Greg, I cried for an hour after reading that! Not sad crying, very happy tears. It was so lovely, and I needed it so much. I’ve read it so many times since that I almost have it memorized!”
He came over to her, and they sat together, her head on his shoulder. “I meant every word, Vic. That’s why I said we can’t go three weeks without seeing one another. Here’s what I’m thinking. It came to me after you said how much you enjoyed the football game. I looked at the ISU schedule, and there are four home games between now and Thanksgiving. What if I came up to as many of those as I could, and spent the day with you? We might fit it one weekend, but mostly it would have to be me just coming up for the Saturdays. Having to leave you so soon would undoubtedly be very hard, but being with you for even a little while would be worth it, I think. What do you think?”
She was still leaning against him. “So, that would be like every other Saturday?”
“Actually, they are every Saturday. I don’t know if I could do every one of them, but I could certainly do some, and maybe we could make a weekend out of one of the trips.”
“It would be sad to have you come and go so quickly, but I agree it would be worth it. And you and me together at a football game would be outstanding! Let’s plan for it."
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