My love, I take pen in hand with no hope of reaching you, no hope of hearing a return word or knowing what fate may have befallen you. It is only my belief that you are somewhere thinking of me that keeps me from the brink of the dreadful abyss that I now find myself staring into. I pray that you are well, although it has been so long since last you have written, I spend my nights wondering, have you forgotten me, or has someone else taken my memory from your heart.
A thousand terrible miles I have traveled in one place, waiting since the day you left, my vow unbroken, my love for you greater than when I last kissed your lips, my heart still beating for your safe return. My existence here has been one of desperation, desperate that your last words to me remain true, and that tomorrow you will return to me, to fill this emptiness that lies beside me each night. Deep within every cloud that passes overhead, I see your face, The music of your voice in every breeze that wanders through another season, without you.
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