Dear Major,
The moon has completed a rotation around the Earth since I last saw
you. Since I saw you leave, unsure you would return. I can only hope,
and pray, you are ok.
My feelings about War have not changed; I am sad you chose War over
me. I know the appeal of War manipulated you, and I know it will
change you, poison you… I have faith you won’t let it, but I
really don’t trust or like War. War has poisoned many good men
before, with promises of glory - but War is lies and deceit (both
sides always think they are right, don’t they? But only the
victorious write history, even if inaccurate). My love, promise me
you will remain strong; promise you will return to me, the same Major
who charmed my family by making me smile and laugh like the fools in
love we were.
I can’t bring myself to tell my family you left. They would judge
me, say I can’t hold a man, that I am not a woman. So, when they
ask about you, I just say you are doing well and couldn’t come. I
think my granddad knows; he said to me “Child, you look sad, what
is wrong?” and I happily blamed tiredness instead of admitting I am
empty vessel without you. They really care about you, and talk about
you constantly. It’s exhausting having this pretend face, it will
be easier when we come back together.
Busy Major, tell me about you. I will patiently await your responses,
with hopes of your return. I long for a good night sleep in your
strong arms, or a good stretch when I have to kiss you.
Yours, always,
Alexandra.
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