arsalul kiram

My Dearest Love. AI-Generated.

November 2, 1917My Dearest Eleanor, The cold bites deeper than the bullets, and yet, it is not the war that haunts me—it is the absence of you. The trenches are suffocating, filled with the scent of damp earth and desperation, but none of it compares to the loneliness I feel without your voice, your laughter, your touch.