love letters from ruby

14. ruby's lovebuck

my lovebuck-darlingbuck-buck  

i don’t feel like joking. i don’t feel like being funny or frivolous. but you make me very happy by being alive and well so i do not know how this letter to you will be. i’m sure you know what to not expect by now, poor man. (now i’m smiling...)

do you know what a dol is? not department of labour, not doll. dol. i read about it the other day. it is the unit for measuring the intensity of pain. i am so shocked that there should be something that measures physical pain! i have no idea why. everything on earth mostly has some sort of measure, why not pain? what horrifies me is the thought of the process by which the measure was reached or decided upon. how did anybody decide to discover this? i have to say again how this shocked me. everything about that measure gives me nightmares. you are so clever, you know most things. you know me. why do i find this so hard to think of? i couldn’t wait to tell you about it. has someone we know, even you or i ever experienced one dol of pain? (i don't think i have! i would have remembered, i do not like pain at all. maybe when i have my period. that hurts like hell.) is there a register where one can look up a list of pain champions? is it in the guinness book of records for the one who has tolerated the most pain? the most pain before what happened? they passed out? or screamed? passed out twice, screamed for longer than a minute non stop? is there someone lurking around hospitals or public roads where traffic accidents can happen with a meter to measure dols? (does it even have a plural, that word? sounds too terrible in plural.) or someone employed by the army to take such measurements? it makes sense that this would be where dol measurements would take place. (what type of person becomes a doltaker?!)  oh god, i just want to get on an airplane (which direction to go) and fetch you and bring you home and hold you and love you and look after you even if you are quite capable of looking after yourself AND me! (i just looked it up. it is tested by applying heat to the skin…how feeble.) doesn’t seem a very adequate way to me…heat, schmeet. i wonder what this meter looks like. i’ll have to do some more research.

enough of that. i was happy as two larks to receive your letter. it was such a good letter and made up for any you did not write. it is amazing how happy words from you on paper can make me feel. because i know you mean every single syllable. i can see it. if i were blind, i would be able to see it! i know you love me. i know you know i love you. love is not a problem, is it? if everything depended on love, for us there would be absolutely no obstacles. it’s the rest that makes things difficult for us, although i am not even sure what that means. our love certainly seems to be getting in great order. i have heard it said that love is not enough (not enough for what i also do not know). do you think we have whatever else it takes? and what is that? you have said that you have confidence in my love for you. (why does that worry me now?) what is it that will require your confidence in my love? you know how i feel and yet you say you have confidence in my love which makes it sound as if you don’t, but then i have guessed as much previously. actually i now seem to be talking to myself. so take no notice. on the other hand, do!   

where was i? are you hiding something from me, buck? are you hiding something? has something happened? i am not stupid. you are definitely not telling me all that there is to know. know that i know. that is all. we will get back to this another time, okay?  

no hunk plumber or mechanic or boilermaker or sailor or university professor or oil magnate will ever take your place. not in my bed, although there is some space there (i'm kidding) and certainly not in my heart, where there is no space left because all of it is taken up with your heart. ruby will not be taking her love to town. ruby will be keeping her love safely and intact until buck gets home to have it all for himself. i love how you love me, buck. i love how my feelings do not frighten you with their turmoil. i love how much of a man u are to acknowledge them, speak about them, reassure me. how can i ever, ever doubt your love? this is why i say a shortage of love will never be our problem. many other things may surface, but our love will not be one of the things that come between us. and if i cry over you it's because i love crying over you. (don't ask, i don't know...!)  

i admire you so much for telling me that you have been terrified in this war. you have to not think of me so much. you have to think of what it is you are doing wherever it is that you are doing it. and however fucking stupid this stupid goddamn war is, you have to finish it and get out alive. you mean nothing to me dead. so get your fucking act together and do what you must do and come back alive! i don’t care in how many pieces you may be or how many fewer pieces you consist of. i do not care if we can never ever come together or apart. i do not care what you look like or what you can do for yourself or what i have to do for you. as long as you are breathing (i could do that too, if need be) and you recognize me, i will be happy.    

just come back at all. come back, come back, come back.

ruby