The Five Strands of A Sedentary Empress

Bonus

November 19, 1942

My nerves are at me something awful, but this isn't new. I just had a cup of tea, though and I'm hoping it calms me. What a damp, dark night out there! Went around to the Fox to see a show with Audrey earlier. She is feeling a little better now, I think. I can't imagine being a widow at such a young age and yet here she is, asking me to go to the show with her for a 'girl's night out'. It's been a while since we've done that, just the two of us. Johnny's plane went down in December of last year, and it's taken her this long to start going on with things but I suppose I'd be no different. It's a hard thing to imagine, getting that telegram, but at least now I don't have to worry so much.

We went to see 'Casablanca'. Another war movie. It seems as though there is nothing else lately! I suppose to say it was about war is misleading though because it was really a love story, and she and I cried and cried until we could barely speak. I might like to go to Casablanca one day, but can't imagine getting the gumption to do it. Ingrid Bergman is lovely but I can't see the fuss over Bogart. It was a wonderful show, though and the music was beautiful! Audrey asked me if I'd like to see her home so that we could sneak some of her father's brandy, but I was already feeling jittery as it was. I didn't feel right, I said, but told her to go on and swipe a little for herself. I have to admit that I kind of could use a belt right about now, though, but I would have had to walk to my house on my own and with wobbly knees it would have taken much longer. There are also some odd characters on the streets at night and I'm in no hurry to meet up with any of them.

I've been feeling guilty about ending things with my soldier boy. He's a decent enough fellow but I could not stand to wait another year for him to come home. I get lonely and even though I know he's a sweet boy, I can't seem to find the feelings for him I had when he first shipped out. Was it the distance? The constant worry that he'd wind up dead over there? I don't really know. Maybe I'm just changing. It's been a couple years since I've seen him and all we had were letters and fuzzy memories. I took time and care to write mine but his were always rushed and reeked of obligation. While that's enough for some girls, all that tiresome waiting, I was no longer able to tolerate the monotony of it. I so desperately wished to confide in my dearest friend Audrey, but she's been through her own troubles and surely she'd be hard-pressed to listen to mine. She has accepted my new love but she doesn't mention it at all. I suppose that her husband and my soldier boy were good friends has an awful lot to do with it, so I just sat there during the movie, busting with nerves, but I was a good girl and I kept it to myself.

If I didn't have you, dear diary, I'd not be able to confide in anyone at all! My new beau is a terrific darling! He doesn't speak much about the war because he doesn't care for such gloomy themes, but he knows an awful lot and I find myself feeling quite steady around him. He's a little older which I'm sure will raise the eyebrows of some, but when we're together I could not care less what everyone else might think. He's a gentleman with an artistic hand, and he's educated and handsome. I'm careful not to sing his praises too loudly to my friends and family though, who are still in disbelief at my giving soldier boy the 'heave-ho' because he is such a decent guy. It wouldn't do to try to make them understand. I keep it to myself, but I can't help but smile when I think of the life my sweetie and I will have together. A bomb could go off right next to me when he's near and I might not even hear it!

Maybe I should have waited until the end of the war before sending that letter, though? That's what has me frazzled, the idea that maybe I didn't behave in a dignified way and I know he was a good boy, that he deserved so much better than a letter. I just couldn't wait, though. I don't know how much longer this blasted war is going to go on and I couldn't put it off any longer. I'm tired of the waiting and the wishing. What if he had been killed and went to his death believing in the lie? I can't say I wouldn't have felt worse for that. I hear he had some trouble with it at first (he wrote some letters to my family, can you believe it?!), but he's doing better now. I always hold my breath when the paper comes though. I never know what names will be in the death notices. I used to read those every morning while I had my tea and toast until I realized how many names were in the 'Killed in Action' section. It gave me the jitters something awful, always worried I'd see his name in there until one day I realized that I wasn't sure why. I just don't want anything bad to come his way. After all is said and done, he's an alright fellow and I loved him for a reason.

It feels strange, being so in love in a time of such unrest. I look at my new man and I wonder how I got to be so lucky! He makes me tea, he eats the roast beef my mother makes on Sundays (like shoe-leather, but he loves the Yorkshire pudding), and he paints the most wonderful pictures! I'm fairly certain this is what my mother likes best about him, even if she is careful not to say so. I can't help but feel bad, though, knowing how people are suffering over in Europe while I walk up and down Queen St. in my new, wine-coloured coat. It's sharp, though, and I feel like a million bucks whenever I leave the house! I'm going to have to get a position somewhere, though. Money's tight and I'm feeling it, which is probably part of the reason why my nerves are always at me. I will try to limit my evenings out in the future, even if the show is only ten cents. That ten cents could buy a loaf of bread or pay the milkman when he comes in the morning. Maybe Audrey will still let me come over to her place and we could sneak some brandy when her parents go off to their bed! I could even stay over so I wouldn't have to walk the street at night. Must remember to ring her tomorrow to see what her take is on it.

So, dearest friend, I am finally beginning to calm down and am a little sleepy. It must do the soul good to confide in someone or something from time to time. I pray for the end of this blasted war, for better times to come to us all. I am so bored with all this horrible business that I can barely stand to get out of bed each morning! I can't wait to see my beloved when he comes round, though, and I will do my best to forgive myself for the sweetheart I left behind. I hope he remembers me fondly, if he even bothers at all. I can't decide which would be worse, to be thought of bitterly, or to be forgotten entirely. Still, I have the love of a solid gentleman and that is such wonderful luck, if you ask me. Above all else, there is that.

Off to pin my hair before I lose the will to do it! What a fright I'd be in the morning if I didn't take the time to wrap my hair in the rags! Another cup of tea while I read my book (Black Orchid, a terrific mystery novel!) should take me off to sleep without trouble. I will dream of my love and for the end of all the madness and hope that somewhere, someone is hearing me. May God protect the soldiers, one in particular, bringing an end to all the troubles across the pond.

Cheerio.

P.S-I suspect that that girl across the street is up the stump again. She's looking a little stout in the middle and she seems to love the attention of having a new little one. This will make four! I can't begin to imagine what that's all about. She's a little off the beam, if you ask me, getting herself into this condition when the world is going to hell in a handbasket. Her husband is a bit of a waster, but I guess they know what they're doing.