September 30, 1938

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Dear Diary,

We've become something more.

At this point it's more than just kissing and touching and fucking. God, so much more.

I want him in so many ways, so many different ways that I never thought were possible.

And it's not even like we're hiding it. Well, ok we are. But we aren't. The way he looks at me in public alone could lead to getting arrested.

Anyway...

It's always been one way with us. Between us. Now, I feel like there's something there that wasn't there before.

It's like a sense of knowing. Like a thought, much more than something I could tangibly experience.

It's more than love.

Is that even possible?

~ S. R.

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