Art of war

A letter to the homestead

Dear Riley.

Where I do I begin. I guess from the start. I know it doesn't seem that way but I never meant to hurt you never meant for things to go the way they did. I only wanted someone who understood the lack of... Everything... Inside me.

Someone who was broken someone I could relate to.

You wore me down and broke me down and made me weak for you. That's not a complaint. I never meant to fall for you. It was so long since I felt that feeling, the connection. It was amazing.

You know, you're the only person who consumed me like that. It was like being a real person and having a reason to be happy. Not just a responsibility or an appearance to seem normal. It was the truest thing I've ever felt.

I can't change what I did, and I can't fix what's broken. I'd like to say I'd go back and change it all. Truth is I wouldn't. I'd go back and make sure it never happened. Make sure you never experienced the destruction that I caused and the heart ache.

You're to perfect to have ever been put through any of that. I know the last thing I said to you wasn't what either of us wanted. But it was a necessity.

All I can say is that when this life is all said and done, as I'm laying on my death bed pondering my final thoughts, they'll be why did I ever let the purest, most perfect thing in my life get away.

Just please know you made me happy and thoughts and memories of our time will haunt me, as I'll never have them again. I'll never feel accepted, understood, unconditionally loved, wanted, and needed .

I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I'm the creature that I am. I'm sorry for everything that happened between us, with us.

I never wished to become a part of this war but fate had other plans for me. I remember the day perfectly. I woke up next to you and smiled. You made eggs and bacon for breakfast and when the mail man came I went out to get it and then I saw the letter. I had been drafted. If you are alive I hope you are okay. I still love you.