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June 20, 1852

We’re in Savannah, Georgia, and it is currently nightfall. I am stunned at how different Savannah is from New York City! Whereas NYC was busy and had the hustle and bustle of a city, Georgia is more calm and has a sense of agriculture. Which makes sense, considering that it’s in the South, which is mostly, if not completely, agriculturally structured.
Ethan and I are staying at the same hotel for the night. Different rooms, though. I do not know why that was important of me to mention...but, as this is ink, it is done. I shall not ruin the page by crossing it out.
Ethan said that he has a close friend of his who owns a farm. Even though their opinions differ on the country’s needs, they still remain close friends. Isn’t that sweet? We are going to be staying with them from tomorrow until we travel West, which I believe we will only stay here for 2 days. I, at least. I am not sure about Ethan’s wishes. Why do I find myself longing for his company? I hardly know him...and yet…

I can’t - won’t - do this to myself. I came to America for the sole purpose of my work. Once I get settled, I shall then allow myself to think of…...other commitments. For now, my heart and soul go solely into my composing. And at the current moment, they shall go into slumber…

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