O.V.S.
May 29th
Dearest Ticky,
Love is the devil - and the most entirely illogical emotion on God's earth. It's just like having a disease for 10 years - with bad relapses here and there alternating with times when one can sit up and talk quite coherently to the rest of the world. During the relapses one lives in a continual state of active coma - filled with wild meaningless longing and sick of the encroaching outside world which has ceased to count.
I feel like this at the moment - and have done ever since last weekend - but it isn't an inspiring feeling - it doesn't lead e on to higher things - it doesn't make everything seem right.
It's just an unsatisfied feeling - you're there and I'm here - and why aren't we together. I don't think it's a really sub-human feeling because I don't mind what I'm doing as long as you're just there to do it with me.
- In fact I like it better at weekends than I do on Thursday evenings - so do you too I expect only you can't help yourself.
- Do you think perhaps it would be possible to have a "super-sub" complex, which I'm not able to cope with because I'm not "human" enough? - you see, I'm horribly thoughtless and selfish and never realize how I'm hurting people till it's too late - which shows that something in me is missing - so perhaps the other two are making war on each other to spite me. I wish I could sit down and think things out sensibly, - but it's like being in Alice's wood where there were no names - only in love you're not allowed to think straight.
- This is a most lovely day and I'm a bit miserable about tomorrow - it would have been marvellous to have taken a picnic tea into the middle of the Park or somewhere and done German there - but I often have these fantastic flights of wonderfullness!
Will you have to go another weekend in June to Boulogne? - Because I'll really come with you then if you do. I can't in July because of Inge - but surely we could find someone who'd come with us.
We've got the performance on Saturday afternoon with a rehearsal afterwards at the Star and Garter for Sunday. I don't know how I shall last out thinking of you at home.
I can't say anything about tomorrow evening yet - so don't expect me - but try not to go out as I'll do my best to come - even if I don't arrive until 9.0. But I'll 'phone you if I'm not coming at all.
- What about coming home with me at 4.30 on Friday and going out on the rive all the evening - that would be lovely.
- You're not a particularly wonderful person, you know - but you've got me badly - probably because you're so much more wonderful than me.
Always yours.
Mary Pleasant
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