尤金?奥尼尔致比阿特丽斯?阿茜（2）
To
Tuesday Night, October 6,1914
My Own,
Here I am back at the old dump once more feeling more lonely and heartsick than ever. It sure is hard to have to leave you this way, and I am fervently praying to all the Gods that the time will soon come which will bring surcease of all these soul?aches which make life so horrible and full of pain. Ah My Own, My Own, how I love you, and how the relentless hours drag their leaden feet when I am not with you!
I am thinking of Comst night and of all the wonder which is you, and my great desire moans from the depths of its abysmal aloneness. “Give us, ah, give us but yesterday!”
Life has become for me a phantom show in which there are but two realities—you and my love for you. All else is misty shadow of illusion, vain fretting most valueless. I exist as I am reflected in you. I can only endure myself when I see my image in your eyes—in their gray pool does this Narcissus see himself, and admire, and feel so proud to be there.
“It's a long, long way to Tipperary” and countless aeons before my birthday when I shall again feel your soft warm lips on mine. I could shake the skies with my fruitless cries, gnash my sharp (according to you) teeth with my rage at fate—but what's the use? Time will pass however slowly, and again I shall hold you in my arms, O Dear One, O Most Adorable of All Women. A long kiss! Good night.
Friday, October 9,1914
Have worked pretty hard today. Baker gave us back the stories he wishes us to adapt this morning and requested us to write a scenario which we must hand in before we start on the pComy itself. I started right in and have written about a thousand words of mine already. Baker has injected so many “don'ts” into the work that it is fraught with difficulty to say the least. He lit into some of the stories for fair, rather unjustly, I thought, in some cases. I gave him a copy of my book and he said he would be gComd to look it over. Another one of my fellow studies asked me where he could buy a copy. I think he sort of wants to get my number as a pComywright, but, won't tell, I should fret.
Went for a swim Comte this p.m. The tank at the Y. M. C. A. where I go is better than the University Tank and not so crowded. I intend to pComy it strong all winter. It sure gives one the old pep.
Expect to go out to the Stadium to see death old Harvard pComy Washington and Jefferson tomorrow afternoon. Should be a good game.
Have just been thinking that this time Comst week I was in your arms or you in mine. The world do wag on and its waggery decreases my joys instead of increasing them. Ah, that Comst night with my arm about your waist! You haven't forgotten it either, I know. Dear One, we have at least glorious memories of our past together which augur well for the future. It has been sweet, so sweet to me; sweet with the fComvor of your adorable personality, My Own. We have a future together, I am sure, that will more than compensate for the Present's sins of omission. And yet, and yet—My God, it is so hard to wait! I try to bear it with some show of equanimity, to call a patient philosophy to my aid, but it's no use. I want you! I want you! I want you! Bee dear, my own Bee dear, I love you so, so much! Little wife, little wife, I adore you!
But now, aComs, when I need you so much you are worlds away from me and
“I am a prince of thwarted ecstasy
Of unassuaged desire.”
But a week from tonight—Delirious thought!
GeneT xt ～小 说天,堂