1961, My 18th Summer
My dearest Maureen.
Thanks for a really charming letter – terrific – I’ve read it a dozen times already. My last letter was rather short, I’m afraid, I was really tired at the time. It’s quite understandable isn’t it – yes – well, anyway since last writing I have been able to obtain a few nights’ rest and am rather more relaxed now but nevertheless terribly depressed because I am missing the one person in my life who is priceless – that’s you silly!
Hiya, Honey!
Did I ever tell you I love you? You are an absolute darling to send me those postcards. It was marvellous getting them ‘cos I’d worked out that today was the earliest I could hope to hear from you, then I came home from work yesterday and one postcard was sitting there waiting for me and I got the other one today.
My dearest Maureen,
Thanks for your wonderful parting gift, I shall wear it always. When you gave it to me, words just didn’t seem to come and I felt near to tears so I had to rush off to save making a fool of myself.
When I left you I returned home and after the party was over, packed my case and finally getting my head down at 2 am. In spite of being dead beat I still found it difficult to sleep.
My dear Alan,
Perhaps this will be third time lucky, I’ve already torn up two sheets of paper. I know what I want to say but I don’t know how to put it. So, I’ve decided to write just what I’m thinking and I’m sure you must have found out by now that I think in a pretty strange way. So, be prepared for some odd letters.
