Teddy,
Last night you kept me awake.
I blew out the candle and lay alone. Thinking. Imagining. Wishing. Waiting.
One day this war will end, and you and I shall find one another again. We've been apart so long I fear I do not know you, only the man in the letters. But we met this way once before, didn't we? And followed the words like maps?
Still, a page is only so much a portal. Ink is no substitute for touch. And this is what kept me awake—the wish of it.
I do wish it.
Since I may yet lose you, I will be bold and say it. We live too close to this edge of fate, a knife forever-leveled. I will fear the pain of present truth, rather than endure the pain of future regret.
I lie awake feeling the ghosts of your hands on mine; on me. Remembering the trace of your lips. The touch of your breath against my skin. We have been staunch and chaste. But by envelope, are we not free, as we once were? Freer?
The sheets are cold and lonely. My heart lonelier still. I feel I am slipping beneath the waves, deeper every day. You are the sun on my face when I break the surface. Live, Teddy. Fight. Survive. I will wait—until, until, until.
I will lie awake.
Yours,
Mare