Dear Roy,
How are you? Stupid thing to ask, I know. You're at war - can't be that good. Everyone always makes war out to be such fun. Personally I think it's a load of bull. So do you, no doubt. Or are you enjoying it? I wouldn't be mad - to each his own, right?
It's odd without you here. Too quiet, too empty. I miss you, and it's only been a few days. I keep expecting you to be there when I wake up, but, of course, you aren't. It's a little depressing, really. But I'm over it. Just the first five minutes of the morning, you know? It's strange.
Write back soon, Roy. It'll give me something to look forward to.
Love, Maes.