Manchester, June 21, 1865 Dear my heart, see, I am writing to you again. Do you know why? Because I am away from you and whenever I am away from you I feel even closer to you. You are in my mind all the time and I keep talking to you without any response from you, these are the distance and dear, they are very beautiful. While constantly staying together, we start to get so much into each other, in each other’s talk, in the habits, that it is not possible to see anything separately from it. Then small things, habits start taking big forms, irritations start filling up. But as soon as they go away, it all goes away in a moment, like any charisma, the distance brings up love, just like the sun and rain makes little plants. Oh my dear, these days the same charisma of love is happening to me. Your shadows surround me, my dreams are adorned with your scent. I know how these distances have cherished my love, it is decorated.
Jenny and young marx
The moment I get away from you, my dear, I feel the power of love within me again, I feel that I am something. This is to be read, write, know, to be modern, it all exposes our inner doubts, makes it logical, but they all have nothing to do with love. Your love tells me to be mine, I can feel my being in your love. There are many women in this world, there are many beautiful women, but that woman is only you, in whose face I can see myself. Whose breath, every single wrinkle of skin proves your love, which is the most beautiful memory of my life. Even all my sufferings and all the irreparable losses that occur in life seem to diminish in the shadow of those sweet memories. I miss those loving expressions of yours, kissing your face, forgetting all the hardships of my life, the pain … Goodbye, my dear. Lots of love and kisses to you and the children … Your marks