Passion Sunday. A beautiful day - the sun shining brilliantly down on a happy earth. Everyone is thrilled that I am 'going out' with June again though John simply smiles with disbelief. Last night brought me out of a misery I have endured since August 24, a hell of 218 days and nights. I never want to be separate from June ever again - we are made for one another, if you can say such a thing without appearing corny, but this is surely the case.
My mind keeps drifting back to last night at the Emmotts - she says she will go with me on Sunday, but I got her to say Saturday, and it seems as though my 19th birthday party will not be graced with her beauty and I'm quite desolate. This afternoon I thought 'Shall I write to her?' but decide that she would not wish it. After all, I wrote many letters from September till Xmas without any reply, though she says she compiled 2 letters then destroyed them. However, we shall see.
The Gadsby clan came over for tea and stayed until the early hours. Uncle Tony seems much improved on last time - no doubt the climate of recent days agrees with his constitution.
'Billy Don't be a Hero' Paper Lace.
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Moorhouse Inn I have the most disgusting hangover I have perhaps ever experienced. Ally too lay whimpering beneath the quilt and refused to...
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I have just been summoned to thee bathroom by Susie who is sitting in a hot bath in complete darkness. "Michael, the bulb's just go...
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