Historical Documents – 1948 Luke Warmer Diary Entry

June 8 Tuesday 11p 1948

There is not one piece of music that I’d give up after Glier’s 3rd Symphony. And yet it’s almost the one I play the least. But that’s what I’ve learned to do with my records. Play them sparingly so that the thrill I get out of them the first time will not die away—at least not so fast. This music is me. It’s emotional, passionate love music and gives the best impression of “paradise.” It makes me happy again after I’m dejected so much so that I want to get up and go without listening but I don’t dare, for that is one thing I never like to do is not finish listening to a beautiful piece—especially this. I would sacrifice myself to the almighty to be able to write music like that; a huge one that would take at least three hours and that would be just like it only as beautiful as a human could make it—without faults. There’s nothing that gives me more than that music.

I went out with Joanne up to Saylors Lake with the Liberty Twelve + the banquet. It was a huge affair, waffles, each got a half of a chicken, peas, corn, macaroni, cole slaw and potatoes. And there were huge cinnamon buns and ice cream and cake for desert. We went to the dance hall to dance. There was a penny arcade in the same hall. I jitterbugged a bit. More than I’ve done since I started to go with Louisa. She never liked it. Joanne and I danced for a while and went for a walk around the lake. We were with another couple so I didn’t do anything except get near to it as I could.

I’d been studying pretty hard for the college boards that I took that same day in the afternoon. I don’t think I did much better in them.

I sure do feel free now that I don’t have to keep my nose in textbooks. I can play and read all I want.

All last week I acted pretty foolishly continuously sitting by the window, studying and continuously looking out the window for the man to see him walking his dog. I didn’t want to ask Jackie to go out until I’d been with him again and gotten rid of my homo. It had come back and I’d rather not take the chance with Jackie. I know nothing can possibly come between her and me for she sees in me what I am not and she is far more sane and kind and compassionate for me to compete with. And even if I was equal I wouldn’t because I refuse to marry anyone but a beautiful woman that fits into my arms like Louisa did, only perhaps a tiny bit taller.

[…]

This evening Jeff and Sonia came over to see Jean. After they left which was about 11p I went out to walk by the man’s house down the street like I’ve been doing every night. I went down and came back and as I just walked by his door he was coming out of his door with the dog. I kept on walking not wanting any to see me turn around again. I walked on and turned into an alley and waited for him to walk by. I waited only a moment because I didn’t want to take the chance of losing him, so I went down again out of the alley just as he approached it. I’d told him I’d been out every night looking for him. Now look at the difference—I couldn’t have told a girl that, nobody could have told anyone that unless they had confidence in their feelings, that they weren’t real. I can see why I never would tell a girl that, not because I didn’t want her to think I’d been thinking about her all this time, but because my feelings weren’t alive and real enough to give me confidence. And yet that’s what makes the great lover, telling what he feels, every-thing—within reason—that makes for interest and interest makes for attractiveness. This Bill will never have because he doesn’t have the confidence of his feelings because they aren’t real. And that is why he has lost all his pity and compassion and deep felt sympathy. He can still feel bad but when he expresses himself it’s not warm, no depth, because he has lost his confidence because he is weak. He will never love. He will have affairs but he will never, never love. Love is too free, he is too trapped in his inhibited sort of way. In a way I pity him for he is just a victim of circumstance. It wasn’t his fault, it was those around him, and yet it wasn’t theirs either since they were victims themselves.
         Anyway, I motioned to him to come into the alley. I didn’t want to be seen with him. I told him to wait for me while I got the car. I did and we went out. My only fear is that perhaps I won’t learn to hate this like I want.

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