I feel vulnerable. Who's going to protect me from the creaks of our apartment? Hurry back. i miss you awfully bad. I miss hearing you fingers swiftly punching each key on that old typewriter of yours. I miss everything. I'm afraid The the poison of The War is settling in my Bloodstream now. The fear and panic is seeping in. i wish I could take your place right now. If you died i don't know what i would do. remember those nights laying in bed when I tried to convience convince you not to join the War and you told me, "The world has enough writers. We need something substantial like artists. People like you." Oh what I would do just to have You by my side, to hear your voice again. Sometimes when I hear the planes swarming in the jet black night, thoughts of you plague my mind and keep me up for hours. Thinking if you're safe and if we'll ever see each other again. All I hear about on the news is The War. It scares me. Know that i will always love you.

With much Concern and love, Anonymous.

P.s. Sorry if there are some Mistakes in This Letter, the typewriter Is such a Hassle. i will never understand how you Are able to work with this Monster machine.