August 11th, 1916
Dear Makoto,
I'm so happy to hear that you're coming home soon. Also, don't worry about the birthday stuff. I'm just glad you remembered me that day.
However, I'm kind of..annoyed with you, Makoto. I asked you to explain your 'nightly antics' in detail...but you didn't. This frustrates me...please, don't be afraid to tell me how you feel, both emotionally and physically. I really, really want to know...there's no way of understanding these days because I can't be there to ask you...to feel you..to love you. It fucking kills me, Makoto. It drives me to the point of insanity— you're all I ever think about damn it! I worry about you every night. I have the most vivid nightmares that scare the living crap out of me...nightmares in which you don't return. I cry myself to sleep some nights, after watching one of these horrible episodes play out in my head of you getting hurt...of me receiving a letter not from you...but a letter of condolence from the government. Other nights I think of you and how much I miss your sweet personality, your smile, your embrace...all while relieving the growing tightness in my pants, wishing it was you who was stroking me, murmuring sweet whispers of "Haru-Chan" into my ear, holding me in a gentle caress..never letting me go, no matter what. I fucking miss you Mokoto and the last thing I need from you is to hold back the way you feel...I try my best to send you everything—my thoughts, my feelings...but what I can't send are the tears that fall from my face each night when you cross my mind. Please, Makoto..hurry home.
With Desperate and Pining Love,
Haruka