“I’ve hidden those words in the lining of my coat. I take them out like a jewel thief when no-one’s watching. They haven’t faded. Nothing about you has faded. You are still the colour of my blood. You are my blood. When I look in the mirror it’s not my own face I see. Your body is twice. Once you once me.” (99)
The repetition of the word you in this passage gives insight to the mind of the narrator and how it revolves around this woman. Even when the author is talking about themself, they are incorporating Louise as a part of themself, (i.e. you are my blood). Here the narrator is saying that they are in essence, her, and she is them. That she is a hidden jewel so precious and protected that she is apart of them, and that specifically her love alone fuels the narrator to feel this.
This passage reflects on the question of why the measure of love is lost. I believe that at this particular moment the narrator would argue against that notion, as their soliloquy shows just how deep and intense the feeling of reciprocated love is. The narrator struggles to determine whether love is as confusing and unattainable as it has been most of their life, or if it is this bright and shiny thing, the stuff of fairy tales. Although they have finally achieved reciprocal love, it has been at the expense of others happiness. I think that is important to note because the narrator is blindsighted and living in their own world that only contains Louise. It is almost as though they lost touch of reality. Sometimes it seems that love borderlines infatuation.
I love your interpretation of this passage and fully agree with your analysis of it. This passage and your own understanding reminded me of the passage I had chosen as well, which reads “Two hundred miles from the surface of the earth, there is no gravity. The laws of motion are suspended. You could turn somersaults slowly slowly, weight into weightlessness, nowhere to fall… You will break up bone by bone, fractured from who you are, you are drifting away now, the centre cannot hold” (100). Similarly, I argued that losing someone you love that intensely can feel like losing yourself. In both of these passages, the narrator feels such an immense love for Louise that they cannot even discern between themself and their partner (their “other half” if you will).
Secondly, I would actually argue that the narrator’s belief that the measure of love is lost is not inherently false in this passage. Looking at this passage and the one I cited previously, I would argue that the narrator is so in love with Louise that even the thought of a life without her feels like losing themself. Thus, the measure of love is loss (or in this case, fear of loss).