May 2, 1862
My Beloved Ophelia,
Your letter reached me in the darkest hour of night, as if it knew that I would not find sleep without some word from you to ease my mind. To think you are still of this earth fills me with a joy I had thought lost to these wretched days. Oh, Ophelia, how I have longed for any sign that you are safe! I dare not speak of how my heart leapt upon reading your name again, nor of the precious warmth that the sight of your hand brought to this lonely soul.
Yet I tremble as I write, for the knowledge of your peril sits heavy upon me. Do you know that I see you in my dreams? Often, I wake with a start, haunted by visions of what might befall you, wondering if the next morning shall bring some dreadful news. I am a nurse to many, yet my thoughts stray to but one soul. Forgive me if I seem weak, for I know you have chosen a path that demands much courage and little comfort. But oh, if I could but reach across this great divide to shield you from harm, I would do so gladly.
My own days are spent here in the midst of the wounded and the weary. I attend to them as best as I am able, though each man's pain feels like a fresh wound upon my spirit. There are moments, dear Ophelia, when I am seized with such sorrow that I fear I shall collapse from it. But then I recall the steadiness in your eyes, the resolve that always calmed me, and I gather strength anew. Do you know how often I remember our walks by the river, the whispered words of devotion shared between only us? Those memories are my refuge, my one solace in the midst of this dreadful sea of suffering.
But tell me, love, where does your path lead you? I dare not ask for details that might imperil us both, yet I yearn to know something of the world you now inhabit. Are you safe, Ophelia? Have you found kindness where you travel? Please, I beg you, if there is any comfort you may seek, seek it, for my sake if not for yours. To know you are safe would ease the constant ache that now plagues my heart.
And yes, my love, I think of you still—every hour, every moment. I have loved you from the first and shall love you still, through storm and struggle. Write to me, Ophelia, if it be safe, for your words are now my only peace.
Yours, always and forever,
Theodora
