Postmark JUL 24, 1907 (“Wed A.M. July 24, ’07.”)

your picture nearly got broken I crushed it so desperately in the act of kissing it

My Darling Sweetheart, my own Precious Darling, Oh dearie, dearie, dearie dearie dearie dearie dearie dearie, if I could only put my head in your arms, if I could only put my head in your lap, Dearie, dearie, dearie. I want to cry dearie, I want to cry but cannot, my heart is too full. If I could only feel the touch of your dear fingers, if I could only feel those dear lips, if I could only hear your voice saying and look into those eyes, if I could only put my head in your arms, it would start the tears, and I could cry in your arms dear, cry in your arms dear and let out all my pent up feelings, I am bursting. I want you I want you I want you I want you I want you I want you I want you! Oh, I love you dear, my dearie. You will never leave me again darling. Yes dear, your picture nearly got broken I crushed it so desperately this morning in the act of kissing it, it is unsafe for me to handle it, — the letters have their share of kisses also.

HillsdaleCollege1
Mabel graduated from Hillsdale College in Michigan, 1903

I went up to Mr. Cummings last night, to get those Hillsdale papers, but there was no one at home. The hammock was in the piazza dear, and I could not help but go and sit down in it. It made me feel terribly, — come back dear come back come back come back — it seemed as if all my strength went straight out of me (and I have lots of strength) it felt strange to be left so weak. I didn’t want to sit down in the first place but I couldn’t help it. Oh dearie I want you I love you!!!!! 

I sat there for several minutes, then stretched myself out in it — imagining or trying to imagine that I was waiting for you to come out, — I kept imagining that I heard the screen door creak and your step on the piazza floor as you finaly [sic] came out to sit with me in the hammock. It nearly made me crazy. Then I got up and walked around the house — all quiet and still and terrible — and came back to sit down once more in the hammock — to wait for you dear. (David was nowhere in sight.) When I come, I want to be with you steadily, night and day. I want you to get strong dearie, I want you to always be strong. I want you to be my wife dear. Couldn’t you send a letter, a long, (-and yet short-) one like the one you wrote Sunday every day? I could keep turning over new sheets forever of the letters you write. No, certainly not, there were never two people that loved each other more or half as much as we, they may have thought so. Dearie you are every bit just as much of a wonderful a woman as you say I am for a man. I would not be so desperately in love with you if you were not. That is a sure proof. I love you dear, I want you dear, I want you to be my wife, dear.

It is only a short time to wait, but it seems long, and I don’t know how I will get along. I am not getting along at all. I love you dear, my “waterlily.”

Love to all, I love you dear.

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p.s. Ah for those arms, those fingers, those eyes, those lips, that lap. You will have your hands full when I get there. I love you my darling!!!

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