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98
Saturday, April 7, 1928

know where I'm at, but I do know I can't have him the way he is — and I know too — — I cannot [[strikethrough]] stand [[/strikethrough]] just forget, when this empty feeling inside keeps reminding me.  If only B. knew—!  I wonder if I should be happier if B. and O.E.D. made theirs a mutual love—!  I am filled with remorse when I think of Al.  How fair and just Fate is.  I understand your actions now, Al —  And I'm so terrificly young, that all this sounds foolish.  If it only were foolish — then I would laugh and laugh.  Perhaps I shall laugh anyway — but there is no excuse to.  And how "dramatic" it would be.  No — I must be sensible and let Fate take her course — and do my best, because I love him so awfully.

This emptiness is terrible — And the uncertaintty — And my having to keep it all in.  Good, there is noise outside.  The milkman is hanging bottles and whistling and the horses are stamping on the [[strikethrough]] ungulating [[/strikethrough]] asphalt, and automobiles are whizzing by — and the City is waking up — after a good nights sleep?  Aline — Stop being an idiot!

[[marginalia]] I've just reread this.  Really, you must forgive me for being too literary and dramatic at times like this.  Perhaps it's because my emotions are too real and [[?al]] for my power of words. [[/marginalia]]


99

Sunday, [[strikethrough]] April 8 [[/strikethrough]] Jan 20, 1928

To-day I wrote O.E.D. a note comforting him about Billie.  It hurt me terribly to write it — but he needed it.  So I did.