I would kill a small child right now, just to hear your voice. Just one word. Just a whisper into my ear, the most infinitesimal utterance. Yes, I would die to hear it.
These days move at a pace that's simultaneously slow and fast, veiled in a hue both painful and triumphant, but for the first time in years I'm hopeful for the future I see ahead of me.
I know what I need to do, and I'm doing it, but it all seems futile without you to share it with.

I recently read an article by Russell Brand (of all people) whereupon a British General during WW1 reflected on his soldiers' inability to adapt to civilian life after the war. He said, "You cannot rouse the animal in man then expect it to be put aside at a moments notice."

I am counting the days until I may see you again, so fervently that it feels like I'm drifting slowly to another planet, isolated in my grief and renewal, hoping for a safe landing.