Sealed With Ink

Twenty-seven

Celestia, I cannot wait to see you again, my darling...
03 August 1945

You know how they say you had a life before someone, and you will have a life after them? Like, you were able to live before them, so, it only makes sense that you will be able to live after them; you will be able to go back to your old ways and carry on? It's not true. I did not have a life before you, and I will not have a life after you. I have hurt every moment you have been gone, Leste. Every bit of your absence has crept its way into my heart and shredded it.

Or, what's left of my heart.

It had shattered when I saw Williams pull you out of the tent, tears streaming down your face. And I gave you the remnants of it when I said goodbye to you in that truck. There are not enough words to describe the pain I felt. That quick brush of your lips was not enough. Hell, I could never get enough of you. I need you, Leste. But you were taken from me.

My world was being ripped away from me again.

So, I ran, Leste. I ran around the camp with the other soldiers on the runs that I usually found an excuse to skip. I ran and ran and ran until I couldn't breathe. Then, I stormed through our tent, looking at your empty cot, fighting tears, and found Arthur's flask. I drank the whole thing.

I was ready to rip Williams's throat out. I had never been violent before this war, Leste, but I was ready to kill him. He took everything from me. He took you from me. I remember throwing the metal flask across the room just as Arthur walked in.

"Bloody hell, Archer! What's your problem?" he shouted at me. I exploded.

I hit him so hard I cut my knuckles open. My fist is still bruised. But, Arthur and I duked it out in the middle of the tent before Tom came in with a General and pulled us off of each other.

"He was my best friend," I screamed, kicking as they hauled me away to contain me. "Why couldn't you let him stay?" I shouted as the Lieutenant passed, following us now. "Cedric trained just as hard as the rest of us. He earned his place here!"

"She was a lying piece of filth," Williams told me, yanking my arm out of the General's grasp. I swear, Leste, I wasn't thinking as I struck him across the face, drawing blood from his lip.

That bastard threw me on the ground and beat me until I lay limp on the floor, staring as silent tears rolled down my face. All I could think about was you. The pain was only background noise as images of you flashed through my mind.

You, you, you.

I didn't know if you were safe, and I didn't even know how to get a letter to you; I killed myself for never asking where your family lived now. I knew though, that there would be no more stolen glances, stolen brushes of our hands as we exchanged letters. No more hidden rendezvous.

My heart fucking hurt, Leste. And I was so, so mad at my life. Everything good was taken from me.

I cried myself to sleep that night. And the next. And the next. I was so done, my love. I just wanted to see you again. It was torture. All of it was bloody torture.

Until I received your letter in the post this morning. Everything around me became clearer, brighter. You scared the darkness away, just as you always do.

I didn't even try to hide it from the men as I ran back to the tent that Tom and Arthur were packing up. We had been assigned one final mission, and we would be leaving that night.

I am scared for that, too, Leste. We're going into an active warzone. It will be the first time I've had to shoot at real people.

But when I got to the tent and shouted for the men to leave, I found a moment of peace. I had a moment, knowing you were safe. You are safe, my love. You are with your brother and sisters, you are warm in your bed. And though I don't get to see your smiles and hear your laughs and feel your touch, that was enough to make me happy. I smiled for the first time in a week and I wondered how I hadn't realized this sooner.

It was like Christmas morning when I saw your handwriting on that parchment. I hugged it to my chest, already crying, before I even had the nerve to read it. And then, I was angry again and wanted only to be with you.

I am so close, Leste, to revealing myself to Williams so he will send me home, and I can return to you. There is nothing I want more than to be home with you.

I almost did it tonight, too. But, orders began being thrown at us, and we were moving out. I'm now writing to you, huddled in a trench under a blanket at the front.

It's something out of a nightmare, Leste. Gunfire doesn't stop. Bombs are constantly being dropped. I have never been so scared.

I keep reading your past letters, over and over again. I keep re-reading our love story from your eyes. It brings me more peace than you know. Even when you are not here, you still ground me, my love. You keep me fighting.

I wish, though, I had one of our pictures we took the night of the bomb. I'm so scared I didn't have enough time to memorize your face. I'm scared I won't know the angles of your cheeks when I see you again. I'm scared I'm going to forget, and this war is going to change me. I've heard of the men who have episodes when they return home, where their mind is still caught in the crossfire.

I try not to dwell on those thoughts. I try to think of our future, instead.

I'm so excited to be home with you, Leste.

You know damn well the first thing I am doing when I see you again will be to get down on one knee and make you mine. And then we can travel the world together and see everything life has to offer. I want to take you to amazing beaches and tropical forests and winter wonderlands and modern cities. We'll go everywhere. We will live extraordinary lives, and we won't take anything for granted. I want you to have the world, and I want to be the one to give it to you. And then, once we've seen the world or are too poor to continue traveling, whichever comes first, we can settle down wherever you want, my love. I'll be happy as long as I am with you.

We will settle down and get jobs. I want to work in a library, teach children to love reading. We will have a grand house, with a wrap-around porch for us to drink tea on and watch the sun move across the horizon. We will grow old in the rocking chairs that will sit on the porch. And I think we should have two children of our own; a boy and a girl. Surround our little boy with strong women. We can watch them play in our yard from our rocking chairs, smiling. God, Leste, I already love them so much.

And I love you, so, so much.

I don't want this letter to end. I don't want to go back to the fighting. I don't want to leave you. But I also crave your words. Tell me of your home, Leste. Tell me of your siblings. Tell me where you want to live and where you want to work and what you want to name our children. Tell me everything until I find my way back to you.

I'll see you, so very soon, my love.

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