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François MITTERRAND – Autograph letter signed to his lover Catherine Langeais

François MITTERRAND (1916 - 1996),
Autograph letter signed to Marie-Louise Terrasse, known as Catherine Langeais. (Fort d'Ivry), December 27, 1938; 4 pages in-8°.

Superb letter from the young Mitterrand, overcome with love, who philosophizes with delight, on his passionate love: "My beloved little girl, All day long I thought about the letter I wanted to write to you. I put in the details of my days, a little of my state of mind at the time, my reactions to several facts, my plans and my dreams as far as I am concerned. And now I am arranging things in such a way that I have only a tiny amount of time left before the last letter. I have just come from my older sister's; there I lingered; I had to prolong the farewells in front of a table laden with liqueurs. On the way back, a pile of shopping to do, and here I am before you, still moved by the falls barely avoided that a mocking ice storm was pleased to offer me. For the landscape here has not changed: whiteness, unreal colors stolen from the northern or mountainous countries. And since this morning, a light rain: that's enough to create a rough ice rink, the enemy of the laws of balance.

My dearest, how I thought of you throughout these days spent without you. How I measured, without arriving at a precise result, the greatness of my love! I see more and more that you are indispensable to me: yesterday, for example, I only received your letter in the evening mail (around 6:30 p.m.). I was going to take you a letter to the post office, which I did not send: it was gloomy, sad in each sentence, dismantled. Not that I blamed you for having forgotten me: I believe in your love and will never doubt it again. But unconsciously the absence of your missives so full of love, so sweet, so like you, had woven a bad day for me. I would have been incapable of writing, of creating, of applying myself. I lacked the foundation. I only realize this now, noting the kind of liberation I felt upon receiving your letter: everything became clear, simple, explicable, and attractive. I give you this example of your power over me to show you that even when you can do nothing about it (a delay in our correspondence, an appointment I missed unintentionally), I react only in response to you. What an admission of weakness. But also what a source of strength! Because, my beloved, my zou whom I adore, you will never fail me, you will be my wife, always by my side. And if you have the strength to love me always, then I feel that [I] will be stronger than any obstacle.
And that is your responsibility. My darling, it is by thinking of my fragility outside of you that I sometimes fear life, and show it to you as difficult. But if you knew (and this, I tell you rarely) how I envisage the sweetness of our life, the sweetness of our days and our nights, when we will be together. Then, because I love you more than anything, as it is impossible to love more, I will make your life the most beautiful, the most desirable, not that suffering will be spared you, but suffering is necessary for beauty. When one loves = everything comes together.
My Marie-Louise, I prefer to end this monologue here. I have so much to tell you on this subject, but this letter must arrive tomorrow, otherwise you would worry. But we will talk about all this again tomorrow. I will tell you about my vacation and especially my vacation impressions. I will tell you how much I dreamed of the moment when these places that I have known since my childhood will become familiar to you. How sweet it will be, my darling fiancée, to introduce you to the smallest things about my home.

My little girl, see you tomorrow. I'll be on rue Vaneau from 4:15 p.m. If you want to call me, do it between 4:15 p.m. and 4:45 p.m. in Littré 2509 (in case of busy appointment times). I'll be on rue Vavin at 5:30 p.m. or 5:35 p.m. Then I'll wait as usual until 6:00 p.m. or 6:15 p.m. Your letter tomorrow may give me some details.

Thank you for your letters. My darling, I adore you. I adore you. But that's for tomorrow. The train wouldn't wait for my letter. I kiss you anyway as I love you: with infinite tenderness. François.
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