You will think I am referring to the weather.
You won’t even remember our last conversation. The one where my heart split in two. The one for which I promised myself would be the last time.
But here I am, reaching out yet again. Trying to see if you will understand the true meaning of my words.
My walk to the river today was supposed to clear my head. I watched the steamers and listened to people talk excitedly about the coming of a Fiat factory to Poughkeepsie. But all I could think of was you.
It would serve you right if I took up company with one of the young men rowing in the regatta later this month. I’m sure one of them would find me to be lovely company. You’re not the only fish in the sea, Louis.
But I’m just fooling myself.
My fractured heart still beats for you, and your response to this postcard will tell me all I need to know.
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