From: Dr Alexander McDonald 23 Star Lane, Hooley, Surrey, England To: Harry Goodsir HQ Civil Affairs; 21st Army Group, British Army Post Office Amiens, France 26 January 1945 [...] He wears a mask constantly now. In the hospital this is, of course, entirely practical; it is a standard medical one, as he does not wish to alarm patients. But he keeps a prosthetic mask on at home as well, as if I had never seen his face beneath it. As a psychiatrist I understand the instinct to shield oneself from distress. As his partner, I cannot bear it. Yesterday, in a moment of closeness (forgive me for the detail) and weakness, I tried to remove it right after removing his clothes. I only wanted to kiss him. But he panicked. He bolted upright, tried to put the mask back on, and when he failed, clawed at his own scarred skin with his nails, as though he meant to tear it away entirely. He nearly injured himself. I had to sedate him; I had to call out sick from work for both of us that day. I cannot tell whether this is a minor regression or the beginning of something worse. Today he has barely spoken. [...]

it always is