Angnes Von Kurowsky
I am so very sorry that things didn't work out between you and Ag. Distance and time are two obstacles to love that can sometimes bring those involved to their knees. I'm sorry to see this happen to you. You write of your loss and suffering in your letter to Bill Horne, dated March 30, 1919, "She doesn't love me Bill. She takes it all back. A 'mistake' one of those little mistakes you know. Oh Bill I can't kid about it and I can't be bitter because I'm just smashed by it. And the devil of it is that it wouldn't have happened if I hadn't left Italy...
But Bill I've loved Ag. She's been my ideal and Bill I forgot all about religion and everything else - because I had Ag to worship. Well the crash of smashing ideals was never merry music to any ones ears. But she doesn't love me now Bill and she is going to marry some one, name not given, whom she has met since. Marry him very soon and she hopes that after I have forgiven her I will start and have a wonderful career and everything...All I wanted was Ag and happiness...
I'm writing this with a dry mouth and a lump in the old throat and Bill I wish you were here to talk to. The Dear Kid! I hope he's the best man in the world. Aw Bill I can't write about it. 'Cause I do love her so damned much... And the pefectest hell of it is that money, which was the only thing that kept us from being married in Italy is coming in at such an ungodly rate now...I've got to stop before I begin feeling bitter because I'm not going to do that. I love Ag too much."
My heart breaks for you, dear friend, as I see your idealistic view of the world struggling to not shatter and fall in splinters at your feet. Your letters over the next couple of months frame your intent to wipe Ag from your heart and from your mind. You engage in a whirlwind of social engagements and spending time with friends up at Windemere. the family cottage, in upper Michigan. There's plenty of fishing and time in the great outdoors with friends, and by yourself, and the healing seems to be happening.
It must have been a bit of a shock to get the letter from Ag! Your response speaks to the healing work you're doing to recover from your broken heart, "Had a very sad letter from Ag from Rome yesterday. She has fallen out with her Major. She is in a hell of a way mentally and says I should feel revenged for what she did to me. Poor damned kid I'm sorry as hell for her. But there's nothing I can do. I loved her once and then she gypped me. And I don't blame her. But I set out to cauterize out her memory and I burnt it out with a course of booze and other women and now it's gone. She's all broken up and I wish there was something I could do for her tho. But that's all shut behind me - Long ago and far away. And there ain't no buses runnin' from the Bank to Mandalay."
Hem, one of the risks of being a raging idealist is that the constant disappointments can harden you to real world events. I truly hope this isn't happening to you as you have a good heart and an expressive soul, and I'd hate to see that become jaded and judgmental. It is good to see that you are moving on from the devastation you felt when Ag broke it off with you. Surrounding yourself with good friends and enjoying your time up north is a great salve for healing those wounds.
By November, 1919 you'd spent an amazing summer fishing, hanging out and having fun with your buddies and it seems to have done you a world of good. Your passion for life and your idealistic view are back full strength and you've hit the pavement running as you start back to writing and getting published.
So you continue to carouse, write,eke out a living and try to get published, and weave stories of an exotic life lived on the edge. You have lots of friends and buddies who you move freely among and between as you burn both ends of the candle at once. 1920 is a whirlwind of engagements, friends, writing, and drinking that goes by in a blur until the end of 1920 when your letter to Hadley Richardson, dated December 23, 1920 speaks of the softening of your heart towards this young lady. You close your letter to her with, " 'Night my dearest Hash - I'd like to hold you so and kiss you so that you wouldn't doubt whether I wanted to or not -"
Ah, dear Hem, I think you're in love again!
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