(See part 1, Alas, My Love has Gone)
January 20, 1953, I wrote mom a letter. The letter is six pages long. I typed the beginning then changed to handwriting. The reason I changed is as follows:
“I quit typing this cause Sammy had quit typing and was just playing and I don’t feel like paying with him so I run off. He has been hanging around a lot the last few days. Well he’ll have a long hard run before he catches me again. Then he won’t get me caught very tight. I have got over liking him very much. But I still like him. That doesn’t make much sense, does it?”
“I got a letter from Norma Jean and Tawana yesterday. They were feeling sorry for me. Bless their hearts. They should feel sorry for him. I’m pretty sure I can have him back but I’m not sure I want him. I’d like to go with him again but I don’t want to like him very much again and if I go with him I’ll probably fall again so I’ll just see what time brings about.”
January 27th continues: “I talked to Jane. She is pretty crazy about Jimmie but he has a girl in Mississippi; I’m about the same about Sammy and he has a girl in Mississippi so we have a time. Sammy didn’t get a letter from her today much to my surprise. He gets one or two letter from her every single day except Sunday. I wish she would let up a little. He has been real friendly and talked to me a lot this last week. I’ve been being nice to him too anyhow I haven’t been snotty. It will soon be three weeks since we broke up. I thought I would be over it by now but I’m not. I’m beginning to think I never will be as long as I see him all the time. He talked to me Saturday night a lot then Sunday after dinner he talked until 2:30. Then I went to the jail service. Then Sunday night he walked me home from church but sometimes I feel worse just being around him when I think about her. Maybe he thinks he can keep me so he can have me back just anytime he wants me – well, if he thinks that, he’s right, he can. I haven’t hardly spoken to him this morning and I don’t intend to until I find out what he is up to.
Well, I guess I’m writing too much about Sammy but I think I have a one-tracked mind. I think about him all the time. I wish to goodness I could forget I ever liked him. I asked him to let me see her picture the other night so he did. I told him that she was real cute (and she is) and he said yes she was but he would show me someone else who was too so he took out my picture. That made me feel good but that made me feel pretty bad too. I guess I’m crazy. (…if anyone except mother reads this letter, they can just forget everything I have written real quick.)
Apparently my little sister had sent me a bear because I wrote “Beulah named him Samalia so I could call him Sammy for short and he gets all my loving.”
My bear turned out being a flirt too, making eyes at the other girls and going to their rooms with them.
Such was the life of this country girl living in a dorm room at a Bible college where she met her love who lived in the boy’s dorm. We shared dining room, chapel services, classes, game playing, study hall, revivals, Sunday services – not much space for forgetting a guy!
But there are no more letters saved about this subject so that’s the end of my “broken heart” story which surely somehow got healed by Valentine’s Day in 1953.
(Happy Valentine’s Day, Sammy, my husband since July 5, 1953)