And every time you put on this uniform, I bite my lip and my smile freezes for a moment.
I really don’t like it, this moment.
It’s bad enough when you leave in your suit, in the clothes you usually wear when you go to work. But whenever you put on this uniform, I know it’s serious. I know it’s more dangerous than on other days. I know it means I might lose you. After everything we’ve been through to find each other again, this thought is the most terrifying of them all.
We’re together now, finally. We found each other again. You make me happy. And I can see in your eyes that you’re happy, too. Could fate be so cruel to take this away from us once again?
The uniform changes you, changes your face, changes the way you talk and walk and stand. You stand straighter, you look more serious and older somehow.
I know you’re still my dear and beloved Dima, but there’s a shadow hanging over you now.
It was never that bad with William. That’s a strange thought and I usually don’t compare you two. What would that be good for, anyway? I worried like crazy whenever he put on his uniform, too. It happened more often, of course. There was a lot to worry about.
But I can’t help to think of it in a situation like this one: it’s never been that bad with William. Never. I didn’t think that it could get worse, that I could worry more. But I do. I’ve never disliked a uniform so much like I dislike yours.
Sometimes I even think of asking you to quit, to leave with me and move to a different part of the Quarantine, away from this strange and creepy place. But I couldn’t do that, of course. I couldn’t ask you to quit your job for me. A job you like. But sometimes, I think about it. Sometimes, it’s so tempting. You would probably even do it. But that’s why I can’t ask, because I don’t want you to give up on something that’s important to you. Even though I really don’t like this uniform.
But wouldn’t it be wonderful? A small apartment only for the two of us? Or… even more than the two of us? Do you think about things like that, too? Sometimes, maybe? Do you think about things like that when you put on this uniform? Do you think about things like that when you’re at work?
No, I don’t compare, but this thought, this feeling in my chest – that it’s never been that worse before – makes me realize and feel it again each and every time: you are special. You are so very important. You are the One. I am so scared because I love you so much.
Does this mean this is a good thing? To worry so much? To fear so much? To be so terribly afraid of losing you?
I really don’t like this uniform. You look good as always, of course. My pretty, protective Dima… but I really don’t like what it does to you, how it changes you and how it makes me feel and worry.
All I can do is hug you tightly, cling to you for a long, sad moment and kiss you. I can only tell you over and over how much I love you and that you have to take care of yourself, of that heart of yours you gave to me.
All I can do is make you promise to return.
Thank God, you always do.
But I always worry.