Love Letter

Dearest Love,
I know it has been sometime since I last wrote, but that cannot be blamed on me. As you know—I am here, you are there, and time and space has not been on our side. I only wish that I could be there with you, holding you, touching you, looking at you. Those are the images that I cling to every day.
When I woke up this morning, the sun’s rays met my eyes with their golden and purple haze. They wrapped me in their warmth, touched my soul with their glow, and made me realize how lost and lonely I am without you. I still felt cold and empty inside. Another sunrise without you . . . another day without your touch. If only I could reclaim the lost time and days that have separated us. Every time I close my eyes, it is you I see. Your smile and giggle, your delicate hands with slender painted nails in mauve and lavender, and your soft blowing auburn curls frame my every memory. They allow me to go on, they allow me to breathe, and they allow me hope that one day we will reunite. That is something that I must believe in or else I will loose my mind, sense of self, and purpose in life.
We are truly soul mates, meant to be together. We can feel the other breathe thousand of miles apart, we can hear the other cry, and we know when the other is sleeping. Right now, my dear, you are fast asleep. If I know you, you are on your left side, curled-up in a ball, in your brother’s old shirt, with my pillow in your arms. There are tear stains on it from all the nights we have spent apart, and when you wake in the morning your eyes are sullen and hollow—showing the effects of a restless night of sleep. Baby, please carry on. I will be home soon, and this I can say will be in the flesh and not just in my dreams.
The Sarge came by today with the news that everyone has been vying for. We only have fifteen more days left on this tour. Then I can come home, and if we have to we will move to another country, live on a farm, and change our names if that is what it takes to prevent us from spending another night without each other. The desert is supposed to be hot and miserable. It is miserable all right, but only because I do not have you. The nights are cold, the days are long, and every moment drags on. The sun’s rays fill me with warmth, but they do not fulfill me in the way that you can.
When I left for this sandbox I thought that I would be counting down the days until I could get back to you and our life, but now I realize that it is not our life I want. I only want you. Baby, I mean this. I will do whatever it takes to never have to spend another night apart from you again. Hold on my love, and by the time you receive this I should be greeting you at the terminal gate with true gratitude and love in my heart.

Always,
Yours.