Dear book.

Remind me never to mention the "A" word in front of the wife when she's coming off a grueling series of all nighters. She never really liked the field to begin with, so it's a very sensitive topic, but I can't help it. That's like me telling her not to talk shop about anything mechanically related. Or make her stop creating prosthetics for her clients.

Tate's interest in alchemy's blossoming. His transmutation circles are getting better. So it's only a matter of time before he starts creating basic stuff. He wants me to show him how to transmute. But...he doesn't know I can no longer perform even the simplest basics. If I could clap my hands again, I'd show him some pretty wild stuff.

But I can't. It hurts to see the disappointment in his eyes. I feel like I'm letting him down as a father. This could've been a passion we might've shared. Lily's always watching Win in her workshop. Just the other day she got into her toolkit...and what was the first tool she tried to pull out?

That's right. The almighty wrench.

So I try to stuff the heartbreak back into a corner. Pretend the hurt in my son's eyes doesn't send a stab of pain through my heart. Smile and nod. Quietly give him tips on how to draw the circles in a swift, efficient manner. Maybe sometime, I'll start showing him how to add in simple details to alter the circle's properties...

God. I miss the days Al and I could talk for hours over alchemic formulas and equations and pour over coded journals. Now that I can't do it anymore, I feel more isolated than ever.

Sincerely don't forget to breathe,

Edward Elric.

P.S. Mustang called and said there's a civilian position out at Central that would let me submit articles over alchemy that pays well. I think I might take it. I'll ask him if I can do it from home. Winry'll pitch a fit-and her wrench at my head-if I travel any further than downtown Resembool. Besides, it'll give me SOMETHING to do besides sit on my hands.