Dearest Beulah,
The war is not going well. Amidst all of the attacks and counter-attacks and counter-counter-attacks and spawn camping, I find it difficult to respond to your letters in full. I am so happy to hear from you that I read and re-read your words every day. They are a comfort to me when I would have none otherwise.
I cannot wait to return home to you and my family. Life back home is different than out here on the front. Every day, I see friends and strangers alike fall on the battlefield for who knows what. They do not send the wounded home, but use new techniques in medicine to patch us up and send us back into battle. It feels as though I have fallen on the field so many times, but I just won’t die.
I cannot wait to be with you again, to be out of this constant fighting and these destructible environments. I long to be in a place of safety that does not feel the heel of our enemy’s advance, or the sharp sting of his spade.
Until that day comes, I am and forever will be yours,
