25 October 1915 – 31 October 1915

A misty, misty evening. I want to write down the fact that not only am I not afraid of death — I welcome the idea of death. I believe in immortal- ity because he is not here, and I long to join him. First, my darling, I've got things to do for both of us, and then I will come as quickly as I can. Dearest heart, I know you are there, and I live with you, and I will write for you. Other people are near, but they are not close to me. To you only do I belong, just as you be- long to me. Nobody knows how often I am with you. Indeed, I am always with you, and I begin to feel that you know — that when I leave this house and this place it will be with you, and I will never even for the shortest space of time be away from you. You have me. You're in my flesh as well as in my soul. I give others my " surplus " love, but to you I hold and to you I give my deepest love.