Mcyt angst

Dear Dream

February 18th 1972

Dear Diary,

It has been three years and counting since he went away. the library where we met became desolate with not a sign of life. More and more people had travelled away to the beautiful countryside to escape the tragedies of the old towns. This particular day was a good day for me after countless letters tied together with twine holding together words of pure love and gratitude. I was finally going to hug him once more and feel him embrace my body for the first time in years. Eagerness radiated off my body as I remember memories from what felt like a past life we lived at only 18. We went through celebrations and death only able to comfort one another through the words of our hearts. There wasn't a day I didn't go about thinking of him. My parents were worried for me, they watched as they saw me day after day travelling back to the library where we first met and reading the delicate notes he had left behind inside our first book we had read together. I wasn't aware of the danger I had put myself in, my one true love had been drafted all those years ago and my parents knew him as my best friend, nothing more, nothing less. I had always wanted to tell them our true intentions we had always wanted to get married as husband and husband and grow into old men together but this world isn't excepting of our feelings. I'm sure sure they'll catch on eventually, as it isn't very common too men spend every living moment together.

February 28th 1917

It was a few months ago now, that I had been worried about my parents finding out but my worries increased once I got a telegram stating that I had to marry a 'miss Lavender Greene.' My stomach dropped once I read the last line - I was to be married to her by the end of the month or I was getting drafted, just like dream all those years ago. Dream was a strong, powerful man who gave up his whole life to go to war. He had the same options as me and in his own words he said "Love is worth dying for" I had never known he had truly loved me but once the reality set in I wondered if it was best he hadn't loved me. The difference between us is that I am not strong, I cant fight or even hold a gun I would be dead in minutes if I was placed on the battle field. Is it worth loving if it gets you killed and wont get to love at all. I suppose those letters holds the only words I need for years to come.

March 11th 1972

It has been three weeks since I started this diary. Dream is supposed to come home soon but what will he think of me now that I have been married into a wealthy  family. I still love him but I suppose it wasn't meant to be.

March 21st 1972

Today, I'm supposed to be collecting dream from the station. My head is overwhelmed with thoughts about the future, It was unfair to marry a woman and not let him know, so I sent a letter the day after I wrote my last diary entry, I haven't received  a reply back. I wonder if he even likes me at all anymore I suppose it has been three years, a lot has changed since then. The busy streets became barren and the only vehicles being filled with ammo and weapons. A lot has changed and not for the better. Everyone got good news letting us know our brave soldiers were returning , well... the only once that are left. My hands were shaking and goose bumps filled my body as each carriage filled with tired looking men marched towards their families. Six hours have passed, I'm only writing to keep my mind occupied as no carriages have arrived in a while. From  countless letters filed with words of affection and notes in books of poetry, the once beautiful flowers that once bloomed and blossomed turned grey and shrivelled in its vase, as the last carriage pulled in and the horn of the steam train steam train sang. Years of longing to feel his hands in mine once more and the feeling of lost love slowly falling further away as the carriage began to shut its doors once more and head off to another train station along the hills. I searched for what felt like forever but to my dismay he wasn't there, I was told he had never even got on the train. The years of waiting had come to an end as I got a final telegram from the mail. MIA, he was missing in action. I wonder if my letter had made him insane, I wonder if only I had never sent it. The thing I loved most was gone and so was the last memories I had of him as the fire sizzled, fueled with the letters of love and passion as they turn to ash just like this dairy will.

yours sincerely,

George

A/N

lmao this was my English assessment, but I used the names: 

jack = dream

Jamie = George 

I got a 4 for the brits who know what that means lmao