Postmark July 24th, 1967.  Denver, Colorado. (Evening)

Dear R,

They’re playing “Cherish” by the Association on the radio now. I was lying on the bed thinking about you when it started, and I knew I had to write you again, even though I just mailed a letter this noon.

That song expresses so well how I feel about you and how so often I feel that “I am not going to be the one to share your dreams.” And I want to so bad. I damn near started crying.

R, I want you to know that I think about you constantly. Every girl I see and every song I hear reminds me in some way of you. I love you so much.

Cherish is the word,

J.

p.s. (over)

P.S. I just read what I wrote on the other side. Something like that is very unusual for me, but I’m sending it anyway because I meant every word of it from my heart.

Love,

J.

P.S. (again) Send me that picture of you I took. I know you’ll start to refuse, but if you don’t I will be highly ticked at you. Okay?

J.

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