His Final Words

Dear Eleanor,

I’ve dedicated over a few hours into formulating the correct words for this letter, but the further I go, the more I realize I may have underestimated it. And now I need to ask myself how in the world am I supposed to express my feelings of being so far away from the person I care about the most and being surrounded by violence and chaos at the same time. I wish I could soothe my inner self with reminisce of my deepest aspirations in life, your voice and touch. I tried day dreaming for a split second, yet it didn’t come close to comforting my inner self.

The war in itself throughout America is perplexing. But if there is anything that it has done to me, it's that it has transformed the way I think. And isn't it astonishing? The one thing that only continues to grow stronger is your love for me. Which inspires me to wake up every morning because with your love came inspiration and power. With everything that is going on around me: the violence, war, and noise — I feel as if I am on the brink of insanity. And your love, to be honest, is what balances my state of sanity.

Even the memories of my life before the war seem foreign now. I am certain that I was not this way before the war. The sound of distant gunfire wakes me up each morning and the ground seems to shake below me. The weight of the rifle I carry has become all too familiar as has the smoke that I so frequently breathe in. You’d think that over time, I would get used to the realities of war but the reality is far from it. On a daily basis, I am faced with the truth of how fragile life is and how my time with my loved ones has been stripped away from me.

It is you who comes to my mind in these quiet intervals when I can gain even a minute to breathe. You with that radiant smile of yours, the way you used to laugh so effortlessly when we were together. Do you remember that blue dress that made your eyes twinkle like the sky? I can easily imagine you standing by the window wearing that dress waiting for me to come home.

But my love, I am afraid the wait will prove to be longer than we anticipated.

Here the men chatter about different things, even those which ought not to be mentioned, but in this craziness I have learned one thing: there is no such thing as guarantees, no promises that can be made which will protect us, and no certainties about us waking up the following day. Despite all of this uncertainty, there is one thing I have hope for: to come back to you. I will do whatever it takes to hold on to that hope.

You asked me, before I left, to promise you that I would return. And I will keep that promise, Eleanor. You will always be the one I turn to. You are the strength that comforts me on my darkest days and is bound to be the single most important reason for my moving footsteps. I do need to tell you though, there are occasions, mostly after we’ve gone through yet another attack, when I get a little scared. To make my fears worse I have heard stories from men who did not, for one reason or another, return to their wives, mothers and children. What makes my blood go cold are the things I never imagined - nor wanted to imagine - facing in my life. I can promise you one thing though and that Eleanor is your memories, your voice and your love around my soul.

I vow to always carry you with me no matter how life changes me. For every moment and breath I take is devoted to you. The first thought of the day and the last thought of the day is you. When I think of you, everything feels easier to bear, including your name, Eleanor.

It’s not only the absence of your presence that I feel, but also the absence of your voice and the comfort you provide. The feeling of missing you is something I cannot bear. You have no idea how badly I wish to hug you and take your hand in mine. This place does not allow space for hope or dreams; it only allows for survival. But the future is something that gives me a reason to hope; the life we planned and you makes me feel at ease. No matter what happens, I will have you and life. Those are the things that are most important to me.

I’ve met so many men, good men and brave men, here, and I must say, they are not bad to look at. Some have families while others are quite young, just like me. These men, they have their own personal battles, their unique objectives to fight for. Yet, every time they come to mind, I am brought back to the reason for my personal battles, and that is you. Because of you, I fight. Because of you, I can endure. And, because of you, even standing in front of death, I will stay strong.

I must, however, confess something to you, love. Life is becoming harder with each passing day. The battles are more intense, and the terror etched upon my comrades' faces keeps increasing with every loss. I’ll be honest, we’ve sacrificed a lot of out people. While I may attempt to hide it, every single person feels it. Collectively. The men that I share this pit with, the men whose faces I can see, there is nothing but complete fatigue and despair written every bit of those faces. Some have given up hope. I refuse, however, to be one of them. It is flat out unacceptable for me to believe that this war will strip everything from me, even you, and that is a thought I refuse to entertain.

I know that when you read this letter, you must have countless questions as well as concerns. You are probably worrying about my well being, if I am safe, and whether or not I am still the man you remember. I try to guarantee you that I am doing my best towards everything that I am able to do in order to return to you. And, Eleanor, this is all that I can promise.

You are already deeply concerned, as I am. Wait for me, as I wait for you. I am confident that our future still exists and believe that pose a parenthesis over my heart.

You are my light, my heart and my hope and I love you more than I could express in words. Therefore, until then, my love, I am hoping to embrace you in my dreams.

Your Thomas