Dear Tom,
Hey. I know you've just left for the military three days ago, but I'm already worried about you. Are you okay? You're not hurt or anything, are you? Are you comfortable? Are they feeding you well? Are they treating you right?
Sorry. I'm just a little concerned right now. What if you get killed or something? I know, I know, you told me you'll just be working behind the scenes and not in the actual battlefield, but still. I can't help feeling anxious.
So, how's life in the army like? Remember when we used to pretend to be soldiers and march all over mom's flower beds? Ah, good times.
Anyway, write back as soon as you can, you know I'm on the edge of my seat right now wanting to know everything that's up with you. Bye.
Love,
Bill
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Dear Tom,
So it's been a couple of weeks since you left. Why haven't you replied to my letter yet? Or maybe you didn't get it? Whatever. Writing letters suck, I have to wait for ages to get a reply. It's too bad where you're stationed doesn't have telephone lines/Internet access.
I'm kinda freaking out right now, not seeing your face for the past 2 weeks. I think the longest time we've been apart was a week, so it feels weird. I guess that's my way of saying I miss you, haha.
I'm still dying to know everything that's going on down in the army camp. You have to tell me every single detail, I'll be hanging off your every word.
Write back ASAP.
Love,
Bill
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Dear Tom,
Okay, I'm starting to panic now. Why haven't you been replying to my letters? Am I sending this to the wrong address? Or are you ignoring me? Did I do something wrong? Please tell me, I'm worried sick here.
Nothing much's been happening back home. I spend most of my days hanging around with Scotty, I don't know what else to do. You have to come home sometime, I'm becoming a total wreck without you, even though it's only been a month.
If you don't reply to this letter, I'm assuming: a) you're too busy to reply to me, or b) you're dead. And you know how I'm gonna be if I think you're dead. So you'd better reply, or else.
Love,
Bill
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Dear Tom,
That's it. I'm flying over to wherever the hell you are to see if you're alright. This is so not like you. It's been almost three months and no word from you at all. What are you playing at?
If you don't reply to this letter in a month, I am gonna buy a ticket on the first flight outta here to you, even though you told me I wouldn't like it where you are. Like I give a damn right now.
Angry and worried,
Bill
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Dear Tom,
It's been 5 months. I know I said I would fly over to you if you didn't reply, but turns out I can't. Apparently, I don't have 'enough authority' or whatever to enter the country. Like, what the hell? They say it's too dangerous to go there, especially now that the war's going on, but I'm worried sick. Are you okay?
My fingers are trembling so hard writing this. I'm so scared. What if you're dead? Then I'm writing letters to no one. But you promised me you would come back, remember? You can't break that promise.
Please, please, please reply, I'm begging you. You have no idea how worked up I've been. I need to hear that you're alright.
Love,
Bill
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Dear Tom,
It's been a year since you left. I've stopped hoping that you would write to me. I don't know why I'm writing to you now anyway, since I know you're not gonna reply. I just wanna say, I miss you. A lot. Before this, I didn't think we'd ever be apart from each for a year. But it's happening. And I want it to stop.
My well-being is beyond help now. I started falling apart when you first went. Now I feel as if there's nothing left. This is probably the worst I've ever been in my life.
This'll probably be my last letter to you, ever. Please come home. That's all I ever want now. To see you home.
Love always,
Bill
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Dear Tom,
Exactly three years, five months, and 18 days ago, you left home to join the army. And all through those three years, five months, and 18 days, I haven't heard a word from you at all.
I was checking my mail this morning as usual, when I saw I had a letter from the military. I immediately thought it was from you. You have no idea how happy I was to see it. I ran back into the house, tore open the envelope, and expected to see the best letter I had ever received, what I've been waiting for for three years, five months, and 18 days. But instead, I got the worst news I could ever want.
You're dead. You've been dead for three years, five months, and 11 days, a week after you left. You got in the middle of a fight and got killed, and I didn't know. All this time, I've been hoping against hope that I'd be wrong, that you'd still be alive. But I was wrong.
The letter was from one of the people at the military, saying that my letters were never given to you, and that he didn't know why I was never told of your death. I don't know why he chose to write to me now either.
I miss you, and I've been missing you since you stepped out of the house that day. I'm not going to tell you how upset I am, because I know you wouldn't want to hear that. You want me to be happy, but I don't think I can be without you. All I can think of right now is that I'm never going to see your face again, or hear you talk, or your laugh, and we'll never walk Scotty together again, and go shopping for groceries, and ride roller coasters together. I don't know if I can ever be right again. This hurts a whole lot.
This is a farewell letter. Tomi, I love you, and I'm glad that you're at peace. I guess what I wanted came true. You are home again.
Love,
Bill
