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I write to you
I know as I write these words to you these will be my last until we meet again someday.
I know as I dip my quill into this ink and apply it to paper that this will indeed be my last letter to you. It has been too long since we last saw each other those many moons ago; young in our way of living each day together and loving one another until death do us part.
When you told me that you had signed up to be in this war, I was very uncertain how I felt about your decision in the first place, sad, more than just sad, abandoned and distraught . I was on the other hand, very overcome with great gratitude that you wanted to help defend our country of liberty and our land of freedom , but now as the years have quickly passed, summer has turned into fall, as fall has turned into a cold and insufferable winter, many winters in fact since you have been away from me, I have doubt if I'll ever see you again. Embrace you once more in my arms and feel you affectingly kiss me as you did before.
As I write this letter I can not help but remember the times we had spent together, talking to one another for endless hours until the sun had set behind the green and magnificent mountains and until it rose again in the early morning light, when we both fell asleep in each other's arms. I also remembered the first time we met each other on that warm summer day in early August, I had decided that I wanted to go and pick wild flowers along the small green lake and I unknowingly met you, when I almost fell to my death, but you rescued me, you swam to me and I was and still am forever in your debt.
I know as I write this to you I will never forget you, those long summer days and those other days in between. My love for you has grown ever stronger and more affluent than any piece of priceless jewel that I've ever seen on any wealthy women wear upon her finger or lined along her fragile neck, and I know it will never stop. But I must write this letter for closure, for you have been pronounced dead for too many years for me to remember, my hair is not the radiant gold it use to be, my skin has wrinkled, my face has tired and my face isn't as youthful as it once was. My eyes are not what they use to be when I was a young women.
So as I end this letter I know in my heart that you are still alive but are unable to correspond, so please write to me.
forever yours
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