“My beloved friend:
How’s everything? I really hope you’re doing well. I know I haven’t write for a while and I’m very sorry about it, if only this damn war let us a moment to breath I’d rather write you than rest.
Like many of us here I’ve been thinking about how’s everything at home, how are you, your family, mine… Some like to send small things they find in the field, a delicate flower, a curious shaped little stone, and then they think about how will that person react. Will they keep it? Will they think that’s silly and laugh? Will they cry? And that made me think, how do you react every time you receive a letter? At first, I thought the obvious, of course you’re happy, I’m alive and writing to you, how would you not be? But later that night I realised, you may also think that may be the last words you read from me, because I may never come back or may come back in a coffin.
How do you live with that thought? Can you sleep? I’ve spent the last few days thinking about it and I came to the conclusion that we usually suffer more thinking about what may happen than when it finally does happen. I don’t want this for you and I don’t think I’ll be going home soon if I’m not dead. What can I do?
It’s been a few days, I didn’t want to send the letter like this, it was not right nor fair to leave you with my problems and questions. I’ve been thinking maybe it will be better if I just stopped writing, I considered that option, finishing this until I come back, one way or another. And honestly, I almost did it. But would that help? I know you, you’d never stop thinking nor caring about me, you’ll try to find out about me and I don’t want to think what kind of stupidity you may try. I think it was a selfish thought, I know knowing from time to time will probably be better than not knowing at all. And you always loved knowing, I sill remember when you showed me so many things about the world and sometimes I see a flower and recognise it thanks to you. Good old times, I hope we live that again.
After these days I’ve changed my mind, I think I’ll be home soon. Until then, be happy and don’t think much about it.”
That’s the last letter I received from my friend… along with his body. It’s like that damned bastard knew he was going to die or something and decided to say goodbye. It was indeed a beautiful goodbye and I’m thankful he wrote that, but it’s still a shame it was the last letter because he was right, he always was, I preferred knowing.
Dedicated to Dan for showing me the story that inspired this one after a long time without writing.