We should not have come to war, my dear. We were not strong enough, but too naive. People think the worst thing about war is fighting. This is not true. It's waiting. The next sunrise, the next meal, the next letter... and while the first ones are almost always sure to come soon, the letters are not. No, not the letters.
I feel like I will die soon, my darling, and I regret so much. I shouldn't have come to war. I wouldn't if I knew the letters would never come.
Every day I don't talk to you seems a pointless one. Yet, when you write, I hate to see what we've become.
But there are ripples in the sky, dear. There are ripples, oh yes. There are.
