Daisy was the first nice girl I had ever known. She was also very
extraordinary. I found her excitingly desirable. At first, I used to go to her
house with the other officers from Camp Taylor, and then I started going alone.
Her house was so beautiful it amazed me. But the fact that daisy lived there
gave the house an air of breathless intensity. It had also excited me that many
men had already loved Daisy, this had increased her value in my eyes and it
made me realize how important she was to me. I knew that when I was at her
house, it was by a colossal accident. So, I had to make my future as Jay Gatsby
by making the most of my time, and taking what I could get. Then one still
October night I took her because I had no real right to touch her hand. I had
deliberately given Daisy a sense of security; I let her believe that I was a
person of much the same status as herself, and that I was able to take care of
her. When we met again I was breathless. I kissed her curious and lovely lips.
She represented youth and mystery that wealth imprisons and preserves by the
freshness of many clothes. She was also gleaming like silver. She was so
important to me because I felt married to her many times.
But the last
afternoon before I went abroad is a day I’ll never forget. We sat together with
a long silent time with daisy in my arms. I had kissed her dark shiny hair. We
had never been closer and more profoundly with each other, and she brushed her
silent lips against my coat shoulder. Then I touched the end of her fingers
gently as though she were asleep. I was so surprised to find out she loved me
too. I loved her and I was so happy to know that she loved me too. I love her so much, I wish I could have her
instead of her having that Tom Buchanan.