Down in the Dumps

Monday, March 20, 1950

46 West 83rd Street, Apt. 7B

New York City, NY

Dear Art,

Darling – I’m sorry, but I’m down in the dumps again.  I’m so terribly, terribly lonesome – I hate the horrible green walls of this room.  I feel caged in.  I called up Mother about half an hour ago.  I guess I shouldn’t have – I feel a little better but Mother’s probably worried now.

June Anderson, circa 1950.

My trouble is that Shirl didn’t come back.  I’m here all alone.  Her sister Evie her sister called up this afternoon to say that Shirl has a very bad cold and couldn’t come back to the city today.  Evie also said that if Shirl were better she might come in tomorrow.  Oh, Art, what if she doesn’t?  What if she’s out for several days?  I don’t know what I’ll do.  I don’t think I could stand it here.

And, oh Art, I was going to tell her what a wonderful time I had this weekend!  I have so much to talk about it’s hard to contain – I like to relive the hours as closely as possible.  Of course, I only tell Shirl the outline of things we did and said – not the times that belong to us alone.  Talking helps bring you near to me while you’re away, almost as much as writing to you does.  You don’t mind, do you, darling?

I’m sorry, darling.  I’m not one of those women who can write an interesting, gay, and cheerful letter no matter how they feel.  I can only write what I feel.  Maybe I’ll walk in tomorrow after school and Shirl will be here and I’ll feel happy again and realize that two days have already gone by and only ten are left till vacation time and you.  I hope so – then you’ll be able to smile as you read my letter.

Art, dear, I can’t tell you how much I enjoyed my weekend home with you.  Words just can’t express it.  I miss you, darling, love you and miss you very much.

All my love (I wish I could send a kiss too),

June

(Later today – countdown to spring.)

© 2011 Lee Price