July 1, 1862
My Dearest Theodora,
It is a strange thing, this aching in my heart for the days that now seem as distant as a dream. I find myself, in rare moments of stillness, lost in thought of you, of the life we shared before this terrible conflict stole us from one another. I see your face as clearly as if you stood before me now, your eyes so full of kindness, your smile a balm to all the worries I held close. Oh, what I would give to walk beside you again, to know the peace of a world unbroken by war.
Do you recall the afternoons by the riverbank, when we would escape the eyes of the world and lose ourselves in the simple joy of each other's company? I remember so well the soft rustle of the trees, the sun glancing upon the water as we sat side by side, sharing our hearts with no fear of judgment. How strange it seems now, that we lived so freely, so unaware of the darkness that would soon cast its shadow over all.
I remember, too, the laughter you would bring so easily to my lips. How often did we find ourselves so wrapped in mirth that I thought surely the whole world must feel the joy I felt beside you? Even now, in these somber days, I hear your laughter in my mind and feel its warmth as though you were here. Such memories are a comfort to me, yet they are bittersweet, for they remind me of all we have lost.
Since we parted ways, I have found myself changed in ways I cannot quite fathom. The work I am called to do often pulls me further from the person I once was, and at times, I fear I may lose myself entirely. But then I think of you, Theodora, and I feel some glimmer of hope that, perhaps, there is yet a future for us—a future where we might live in the quiet peace we once took for granted. It is this thought that keeps me grounded, that pulls me back from the shadows, reminding me of who I am and who I wish to be.
Tell me, my love, do you still hold our memories close as I do? Do you remember the warmth of summer days when all was yet untouched by the troubles of the world? I find myself yearning to know that you, too, carry these fragments of our past. Perhaps, in some way, they bind us across this gulf that lies between us, keeping us tethered to a love that no war can sever.
Please, write to me soon. Tell me of your days, of the things that bring you comfort and joy, for it is through you that I remember all that is good and true in this life. Until that blessed day when I might hold you close again, I remain ever yours.
With all my love and longing,
Ophelia
