SHORT STORIES: Dear Fiona

Dear Fiona

11 October

Dear Fiona,

I start this letter, simply by saying I love you, and that I miss you. If time heals all wounds, then the distance between us continues to scar me daily, and there is never any time to recover.

Next Tuesday it will have been exactly one year since you were dragged away, and I intend to mark the anniversary by buying a bottle of wine, sitting on the beach and gazing out towards where you are. It seems pathetic, but that’s the state you leave me in. I am but half a man without you.

How are things out there? I hope you are staying safe. I read a terrible story the other day about a whole platoon wiped out by a series of bombs, but luckily your letter arrived the following day, so I only had a few hours of hollow fear.

I hope this time you may be able to make the voyage home for your R&R. I long so desperately for the warm touch of your hands.

Things go on the same here. Days and nights, seemingly without meaning. Your mother sends her love. I was at hers last Thursday. Perhaps the mention of her scones will be enough to tempt you back!

Yours hopelessly,

Daniel x

18 October

Dear Fiona

The news of your return left me breathless, and I am yet to simmer down from the moment I read it. I cannot wait to hold you in my arms once more, and the minutes seem to be interminable now, as I count down to your arrival.

Your mother has sworn me to secrecy with regards to your welcome home, so instead I will tell you of all that has happened of note in the last week.

On Friday afternoon, just after I had posted the letter, a conscription officer came round and questioned me as to my involvement in the war. I showed him my certificates, but he remained sceptical. It would seem the army are becoming more and more desperate as the war rages on. I do feel rather pathetic, being unable to serve due to illness. If we had a family, It might give me some sense of purpose, but alas no. I remain, just dispassionately undertaking tedious admin for the war effort.

The weekend was without event, and on Tuesday I went to the beach as I had intended. The sea was as calm as a millpond, and I sat and drank the wine and gazed out at the soporific panorama, wishing every second that you might be there with me. I had fallen into a rosé tinted melancholy funk, so I returned home, only to find your letter. Since then the week has been a fuzzy rush of warm emotion. Perhaps things of note have happened, but I cared not.

I love you, I miss you, and my heart leaps at the thought of your return,

Daniel x

5 November

Dear Fiona,

These days since your return have been the hardest yet. To have love snatched away once again, leaves me feeling more hurt than ever. I’m sorry to be so melodramatic, but I am simply besotted with you, and being apart is just the most painful thing. How I wish this war would end that we might be together once more.

London was struck once again today. Explosions all over the city, hundreds dead. I have called your uncle and he is fine. Shaken, but fine. It seems the more we throw ourselves into the battle, the more we are attacked. You are so brave to go to take them on. It is an honour to be in love with someone so courageous.

Winter draws in fast here, the night longer, the days colder. Is it the same over there?

Hope you are safe. Please stay safe. For my sake.

Yours

Daniel x

12 November

Dear Fiona,

I was surprised not to receive a letter from you this week.  I try to convince myself it is because you are being moved, or that it has simply been lost, but my mind inevitably turns on me. Your mother has done an excellent job comforting me.

My week has been enveloped by worry. There have been more attacks, but I have been caught up in your memory all week. I sincerely hope you are safe. Please tell me you are. I know not what I’ll do without you.

Yours,

Daniel x

19 November

I am desperate now. No word for weeks. Please Fiona, tell me you aren’t harmed. I am tearing myself apart with fear. This bloody war! I beg you Fiona, I ask of you only two words: I’m safe. It would calm me so. Please Fiona please.

Yours in fear,

Daniel x

21 November

Dear Fiona,

I am writing simply to say that I love you and I miss you. Life hasn’t been the same without you, the colours are greyer, and nothing is as sharp.

The only thing to make me smile is the memory of us on the promenade in the October sun. Your warm body pressed to mine. Such comfortable ecstasy. How I miss you!

The war rages on without any real purpose. We strike, they strike back, everyone is hurt. It is senseless. I cry when I think back to the day war was declared.

This year has been the hardest of my life. It has been one year to the day since we received the message of your passing. The details so hideously vague. So impersonal. I cried and cried and cry and cry, but somehow it gets no easier. Life is an incomplete puzzle without you.

Your mother remains relentlessly strong. She is coming with me to see you this afternoon. She misses you too.

Oh Fiona. Why do I write this!? Is it that it reminds me of a time when you may read my words, or is it simply because my life has no purpose anymore? I know not.

I’m sorry to be so depressing, it’s simply the times.

I love you, I miss you, and I always will do.

Yours eternally,

Daniel x

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