It’s been awhile since I’ve written to you, my dear sister, and I suppose it’s my fault for not being able to keep up with writing. However, it is a little depressing about the bigger reason I wasn’t able to write to you. You must be worried sick, Lucina, but there’s no need to be worried about me! We both know that I can handle myself just fine in any situation, it’s what I was trained for, anyway. Anyway, aside from the babbling, I’m currently in Marne, and we were advancing, until the French and British stopped us. We’r currently digging into trenches, with mud and all that. How fun. I’m currently resting, it is night and I apologize if my handwriting is sloppy, I can barely see, the fire is barely illuminating my paper. Not only that, but Klaus is very comfortably sleeping on my writing shoulder. I’m with Augustus, Klaus, and Diederich. My current physical state is pretty …show more content…
Well... Eduard… It’s hard speaking about this, let alone writing about this. I’ve already wrote to his wife about his state. I guess you can already see where I’m going with this. I’ve seen a multitude of people die on the battlefield, but no death has hit me harder than Eduard’s death. It’s just, a person can be gone from your life instantaneously, it’s unbelievable. It’s revolting. Evil. The history and the memories between us were truly unbelievable, and we were there for each other all the way. I’m just so distraught, overall, I feel as my tears are going to smudge away the writing, but it’s so difficult to control the inexorable breakdown that’s coming right now. I feel ashamed, ripped away from the world, I do not feel like a soldier. A soldier is brave and cannot crack, I am weak and fragile. Who am I, after this war? Am I a new soul, or just a soul that’s been broken and is finally realizing how destroyed and worthless this soulless after the death of a precious person? Eduard meant so much more than I and should have been writing this