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VIII Sunday Oct. 1, 1944 9 a.m. My darling, I didn't write you last night (it doesn't make any difference because letters go out in mid-morning and late afternoon) and now I'm glad I didn't, because I've just received letter #3. It was so good to get it sweetie, even if it was written before I saw you last. You are direct and honest in your letters in a way that you aren't yet quite able to be otherwise (except for last Sunday when you were superbly so - I loved you so much for it). This is a bad time and place to write. There is much, much that I want to say but I'm sort of saving it just a little til the initial confusion resolves itself. Somehow I feel as though I'm growing fast in a way that I haven't done for years, and this time you are a vital part of that growth. Nevertheless I don't want to indoctrinate you with my own ideas. I want to exchange ideas with you - ideas on the war, on people and personalities, on anything that comes to mind - but I want yours to be your own. (I say that thinking of the many times I've stubbornly worked on you to try to get you interested in things I was interested in - just very poor technique!) Honey, I may still fuss a little bit but I'm about ready to accept you as you are from day to day - I love you so much and in so many little ways (this morning at breakfast I saw and said to myself “ah, pancackez” - which brought your visage right away and made me feel all warm inside. [pg 2] Last night Henry and I had another (a second) good long talk about ourselves and things in general. I feel as though having been long dormant and storing up a reserve, sort of, I'm just beginning to think clearly for myself again. Henry is excellent company in that way and serves as a sort of catalyst - he doesn't force ideas on me nor do I on him; we both generate our own, and much of the time are in agreement. If we aren't it doesn't matter. I'll write more later about what I'm thinking - it's still groping, of course, but not so much around in circles now. Yesterday was a very satisfying day. The work I mentioned doing without being able to tell you what it was and which I said was very demanding but rather exciting, went much better and encouraged me to believe that I could handle it. Met Chet Chard for the first time but could only talk to him for a moment or two. I’d have to see more of him to know how well I like him (a rather neutral impression at first) but anyhow if you should write Betty you can tell her that we've met and that I told him a little bit about Carl. It's time to get this to the Censor. Remember my experience - I was really rather frightened the day before yesterday, but that's all past already. It'll happen again, no doubt; no matter. I love you very much and am so anxious to get more recent letters Warren
