Dearest Kurt,

I went past the lake today, the one that we found at some ridiculous time of night and decided to go skinny dipping because it was so beautiful. I know when you're marching that you aren't supposed to stop looking forward but I couldn't help myself, it just reminded me of you…and I wouldn't miss that for anything.

They keep telling me I should cut my hair short, into some kind of buzz cut I guess, but I can't bring myself to do it. It only a bit shorter than when I had it in Dalton at the moment…so quite a bit shorter than the mess I had when I left. You always liked my hair longer so I don't wonna cut it any shorter. I know I'm being silly but when I come home I want everything to be like it was before.

I guess that's never gonna happen.

The food is not bad here. I'm eating well and I don't have to box to stay fit anymore. You would have a fit at the outfit I have to wear. I remember when you told me about Finn making you try on his dad's army hat and you used to joke about wearing it when people pushed you around.

How is Rachel? Quinn? Have you heard from the boys? I haven't heard anything here…I'm aching for some kind of news, Kurt. Has anyone else been recruited? I pray every day that they won't call for you, it would break my heart if they did. You just wouldn't last out here.

They found a stray dog at the road side and decided to take him in. Skipper, they called him. They are going to try and train him to sniff out bombs or at least act as some kind of warning system. I remember when we used to talk about getting a dog, we even used to talk about kids.

I keep our wedding photo on me under my body pack, next to my heart. I have so many pictures of you next to my bed. Someone even asked if you were my son. I would send you a picture of me for once but I don't want you to see me. I don't look like myself anymore. I'm thinner and more muscular, I always look dirty and my long hair makes me stand out.

I don't know if you've been following anything on the news but everything is going well. They are expecting a big face off soon. I can only give you details that would have been on the news so I am no help but as long as you don't see my name in the section of "Lost Soldiers" then everything is going fine. Don't deny it Kurt, I know you are watching it everyday. I know you.

There is talk of moving my unit out of America into one of the other countries. They need more people out on the front line ready for any advances. Living in a trench can't be that bad, there are already 100s of people out there doing it. They are even asking us to think about what we want to put in the "final goodbye" letter. I honestly don't want to think about it. I can't.

What are you up too? How's your job going? Are you still searching for those really old fashion broaches or have the trends changed? God, Kurt. I know nothing. Are you alive? Are you hurt? Do you think of me? Have you forgotten me and the days we had together? Have you moved on? Have you given up hope that I'll come home?

I will never love anyone more than I love you. Promise me you will stay safe. If the time comes, I want you to take all of the savings and move to one of the safe countries in Europe. I was thinking that Chalet in Switzerland that you were gonna buy as a holiday home for us. It's one of the 5 "No fighting" countries so lots of people will be thinking of moving there. Please take the others with you…keep everyone we love safe.

I have to go now, I need to stop rambling.

I miss you Kurt, so much.

CPL Blaine Anderson- Your Blaine
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Kurt put the letter on the coffee table in front of him. The tears were streaming down his face. He wanted Blaine home…he needed Blaine home. The image of Blaine, with a shaven head, marching in huge lines of people with enough bullets to kill a whole city burned in his head.

How could he reply? What would he say? He wanted to. He needed to but yet he couldn't. He got off the sofa, wiping his eyes as he went. He picked up the letter and placed it on the mantle piece, propped up next to the pictures of their life.

The words in Blaine's perfect hand writing were jumping out of the page at him and plastering themselves on Kurt's eyes.

"Your Blaine"