The Nurses’ Home
The General Hospital, Birmingham
March 17th 1915
My dear Sweetheart.
I got your pc this morning and except that we have a heavy day before us tomorrow I should have waited to answer your letter which you say you will be writing in reply to my long one written on Sunday, but I shall not have time to write tomorrow for we will be late coming off duty and I also have an appointment with the dentist.
I went to him on Monday evening and he hurt most horribly. I am dreading going tomorrow because he is to stop an eye tooth – it was bad enough having it drilled to have a dressing put in.
We shall have three theatres “going” all the morning until 2 pm. Then about 3 pm the ceiling and wall washers are paying their monthly visit also the window cleaners. This means turning the contents of the theatres into the anaesthetic rooms and corridors after having washed and boiled bowls etc and covering them up.
While they are busy cleaning I get my masks, sleeves etc washed and mackintoshes scrubbed, and then we have to wait to put the theatres straight before we go off duty. Last time we had an emergency in in the middle of all this muddle!
I am afraid you find me a great nuisance bothering you to try to come and see me. But it is only because I long to see you so much – you don’t know how I envy other people who are near enough for you to go and see. And also to be quite frank with you I cannot understand your placid nature. I know you would like to see me but I am quite convinced you dont want to see me as much as I want to see you because if you really felt it, you would almost unconsciously express it in your letters.
Sometimes I feel that I must “fail” you in some way or another – that you should not desire my companionship more than you do. You never show by any word or sentence that you wish I could be with you.
I am not writing like this to complain in any way, darling, but it is best I should tell you how I have been feeling.
Then again, sometimes I wonder if it is because I am older than you that I feel more intensely than you do.
I think, dear, if there is a “little rift within the lute” it is that although I know you love me, I sometimes feel it is not quite in the way that I shall ever understand.
Don’t let what I am saying hurt you or worry you for I am sure your nature is such that you cannot be different and this kind of thing cannot be forced, it must be spontaneous. I like you to know what I think and so am trying to explain to you what I feel.
I feel a brute writing in this strain when you are going abroad so soon but I simply cannot keep anything from you even if it is horrid.
I must try and study now so goodnight old fellow. My tonic has done me a certain amount of good all ready.
Best love, Sweetheart, from
Your devoted
Mela
