It was delightful . I wrote out all my doings and perplexities and hopes and plans and wishes -- yes , and my dreams . The secret romance of it all made me look on existence with joyous , contented eyes . Gradually a change crept over the letters I received . Without ever affording the slightest clue to the identity of their writer they grew more intimate and personal . A subtle , caressing note of tenderness breathed from them and thrilled my heart curiously . I felt as if I were being drawn into the writer 's life , admitted into the most sacred recesses of his thoughts and feelings . Yet it was all done so subtly , so delicately , that I was unconscious of the change until I discovered it in reading over the older letters and comparing them with the later ones . Finally a letter came -- my first love letter , and surely never was a love letter received under stranger circumstances . It began abruptly as all the letters had begun , plunging into the middle of the writer 's strain of thought without any preface . The first words drove the blood to my heart and then sent it flying hotly all over my face . I love you . I must say it at last . Have you not guessed it before ? It has trembled on my pen in every line I have written to you -- yet I have never dared to shape it into words before . I know not how I dare now . I only know that I must . What a delight to write it out and know that you will read it . Tonight the mood is on me to tell it to you recklessly and lavishly , never pausing to stint or weigh words . Sweetheart , I love you -- love you -- love you -- dear true , faithful woman soul , I love you with all the heart of a man .
Ever since I XXXXX saw you I have loved you .
doings existence feelings first life middle perplexities recesses stint words