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My letters home are read and redacted before they ever get there. My wife, she tells me she keeps them, and maybe I'll get to see what they cross out one day, if I can stand it. I understand, of course. It's for security. But her responses always seem confused, like they got rid of something important. Not just names and places and plans, but emotions. I never feel like she's responding to my letters. It's like she read something entirely different.

There was a journalist here the other week, and he interviewed me. I told him about my wife and he asked me, if I could say just one thing to her right now, what would it be? I thought about it for a while. What had I already said? "I don't know," I said. "I guess I'd tell her I love her very much."

"I'm sure she knows," said the journalist with a big smile. And I just thought: does she?