I am indulging now in the most lifeless and gloomy of broodings; if you do not come back to me, the only soul I can love, if you are not joyful and strong, sincere, sympathetic, and loving, all of these--I shall know it is a farce for me to ever hope to gain any life with _you_. I do not believe that any woman can grow without love, and a great deal of it. Why do you suppose I am writing all this--I, who have felt such deep and true love for you? I have no courage--the dampness of the day has settled into my soul--and I shall be joyless until there is no more cursed doubt of you and your love for me. XXXIII Dear Corydon: Against resolutions, I am writing to you again. I thought of you--there is a boat up the lake to-day with some hunters, and if I finish this letter, I can send it in by them as they pass. I have many things to tell you, and you must think about them. This is one of my paralyzing letters. It will reach you Monday. I can’t tell where I may be then. I have been wrestling with the end of the book, and I am wild with rage at my impotence. The fact has come to me that no amount of will is enough, because all my life is cowardly and false. I have found myself wanting _to sneak through this work_, and come home and enjoy myself; and you can’t sneak with God, and that’s all. I cannot come home beaten, and so here I am, still struggling--and with snow on the ground, and the shack so cold that I sit half in the fire-place. I think of you, and at times when my soul is afire, I imagine I can do anything. I see that you are helpless, but I think that I can change your whole being, and _make_ you what I wish. But then that feeling dies out, and I think of you as you _are_, and with despair. I do not allude to any of your “deficiencies”--music, learning, and other stuff. I mean your life-force, or your lack of it. I see that you have learned nothing of the unspeakable, unattainable thing for which I am panting. And it has come to me that I dare not marry you, that I should be binding my life to ruin. My head is surging with plans, and a whole infinity of future, and I simply cannot carry any woman with me on this journey.