Because the many nights of no sleep and sadness make him thin am I sorry? Because of the sad sound of his sorrow which I missed in his conversation and did not finish? Because life is so tenuous that this afternoon the bullet of a soldier under the bridge hit a girl in the stomach in front of her house, and that clothing drying on the mountain showed a helicopter pilot where they were so that nine people were killed, twelve wounded, 4 captured with only 2 escaping after the bombs fell. If I hadn’t been making clothes and staying at home then he also would have gone over there to seek shelter. Oh God, because of all of that should I forgive him? No, I already acted responsibly, I already forgave him and let Cuc’s and his love grow, but to forgive him for the lack of his love for me is impossible. Don’t let emotions make me too simple. It’s easy enough to break apart the close affections which you and I vowed to protect forever. Don’t let emotions control life. I must be like Pavel, or the gadfly, or like M. I have to be that way, do you hear me, and do you understand me my dear comrade?
March 24, 1970. I read your letter: I understand and care for you more, Tan. You really cherish me and care for me with an affection which we always talked about: in any circumstance you will always be faithful to our emotions. It’s not that I don’t believe you: I always said that I trust you like I trust myself… but I sometimes still don’t know whether this is right or not. Because of that please don’t blame me when I am angry at you. Actually because of my kind deep care I feel that I am mad at you. If not, a letter like that with those words is very normal for other people. But… to me it is different: I ask from you a special regard for me, the sort of love a brother has for a young sister.
Is that too much to ask? “I already have given all of my only love to you.” If that is true, then it is not too much: that’s it. Please understand a young woman filled with emotion and life. Still very young, I very easily trust people and life is not really worth that trust. I hope you are the one to lead me step-by-step along this hard and dangerous way, but most honorable is the way we have chosen already.
March 26, 1970. All these moments in the life of people doing the job of the Revolution are worth being noted. I am calm listening to the breath from the beloved comrade warm on my hair, feeling his calloused fingers in my hand, then his hands covering my hands to hold me tightly with emotion. “Deep and pure love” day by day is fresher and more green in my spirit. I care for it, respect it, and protect it; no matter what the situation I will guard its perfection. Oh my dear comrade, life around us is so vital and burning with hate so that the spirit of the members of the fighting unit is bound to us in the secret of love. Even if life today still has thousands of hardships and difficulties we hold each other tightly, firmly step out and flatten all the thorns, hardships, and obstacles. We came together through having the same ideas: this emotion is completely different from romantic love, but it also has a wonderful strength which gives us happiness, hope, and helps us forget the sorrow around us. It also is a flame to warm our hearts: warm and vital hearts need to be nourished by a pure, clean, and correct kind of love.
March 27, 1970. It is always the same for people at bases far away from home; I join with others at 4 o’clock in the morning ready to hear that when dawn comes we will carry our bags and leave for the place we have decided to live at. I can’t believe that this area just went through a fierce bombing raid: all parts of the forest are a mess of collapsed houses and fallen trees with the leaves all blown away. When I put down the bags and was quiet, looking at everyone I could see from their eyes that though they were smiling, they worried and were thinking of the jobs which the Revolution continues to bring. In this situation what will happen? Tonight the rain falls on the bags and a pot left over there makes a sort of very sad music. I look at my comrade and my heart fills with sorrow: he looks pale and skinny; his eyes looking out of his pale and shinning face after the many nights without sleep because of the worry and the work. My dear comrade, no matter how much I care for you, I still have no way to protect your health. My situation won’t let me do anything: I think you understand this.
