May 27, 1911
Diary,
This is the last time I'll get to see him. He's taking off the cast on my leg and then he'll be gone. He's been with me every night since that first. All we ever did was kiss quickly and then I'd sleep.
Mother, Father, and I are at the hospital now. They are in the waiting room while I'm by myself in a separate room. It's white and boring. The only thing keeping me from trying to escape is my leg.
He just walked in. He was holding me in a second, kissing my forehead, my cheek, nose, and lips. His skin was cold, but comforting. I knew it had to be. If it wasn't I probably wouldn't miss him as much as I do.
He took off my cast and kissed my lips. He was so sweet. I didn't know who I was going to find to replace him. The fact is, no one can.
I'm home now and he's gone. He's
out of my life. I miss him. I'm staring out the window. I see all of my friends with their fiancée. We're of marring age.
I wish he could've stayed, married me, and had children with me. Our children would have been beautiful.
It's cold in my bedroom. I'm all alone and I know that when I go to bed and he won't be there, holding me and humming a lullaby into my ear. I'm all alone.
Over in Killarney, many years ago,
My mother sang a song to me
In tones so sweet and low.
Just a simple little ditty,
In her good old Irish way,
And I'd give the world if she could sing
That song to me this day.
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, too-ra-loo-ra-li,
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, hush now, don't you cry!
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, too-ra-loo-ra-li,
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, that's an Irish lullaby.
Oft in dreams I wander, to that cot again,
I feel her arms a-huggin' me
As when she held me then.
And I hear her voice a-hummin'
To me as in days of yore,
When she used to rock me fast asleep
Outside the cabin door.
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, too-ra-loo-ra-li,
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, hush, now don't you cry!
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, too-ra-loo-ra-li,
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, that's an Irish lullaby.
I'll be graduating tomorrow. I know that nobody will be there, clapping just for me when I get my diploma. It'll just be myself. Mother and father won't care, but that's not a first. When did they care?
I hope they never find this. If they do and I am still living with them I want my last request to be that Carlisle knows I love him and that not one moment will go by without him crawling in and out of the holes in my vivid imagination.
Forever Carlisle's,
Esme Anne Platt