Today has been unbearable. The rain fell throughout the night, soaking my boots and chilling my bones. When I awoke, I could barely find a dry spot to sit; mud was everywhere. The din of artillery seems never-ending, punctuated by the cries of men. My heart races each time the ground shakes beneath me.

As I attempted to eat my rations, I spotted a rat scurrying by—its beady eyes glinting in the dim light, making me lose my appetite. The smell of wet earth and stale food permeates the air, mixed with something awful from our latrine. It’s hard to breathe sometimes with the heaviness of the surroundings.

Lately, the lice have gotten worse; I spent the afternoon trying to rid myself of them. We shared a few jokes to lighten the mood, but the fear still hangs thick like the fog around us. I close my eyes at night, and all I can think of is you, back home, where I can remember sunshine instead of mud and smoke.

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I can hear the distant sound of laughter from a memory, a fleeting moment that almost feels out of reach now. Your laughter used to echo in my mind like a favorite song, but here, the only melody I know is the constant rumble of war. I clutch the worn-out photograph of us, the one I keep in a tattered pocket, its corners frayed from the countless times I’ve pulled it out to seek comfort. It’s a reminder that there’s a world beyond this chaos, a world filled with warmth and love.

The nights are the hardest. Once the din of battle fades, the silence is overwhelming, broken only by the occasional shout or groan of my comrades. I lie wide awake, counting the seconds until dawn, trying to find peace in the darkness. I remember the taste of your cooking, the way you’d sing softly as you prepared dinner. I can almost smell the fresh bread, the herbs, and the warmth of the kitchen—a stark contrast to the cold, dampness surrounding me now.

Every day is a battle; not just against the enemy beyond the trenches, but with my own thoughts. The uncertainty gnaws at me; will I ever see you again? Will we have the chance to sit under the sun, to feel the breeze without fear or worry? I find solace in our shared dreams, picturing us wandering through fields of wildflowers, laughter ringing out as we dance beneath a cerulean sky.

I cling to these thoughts like a lifeline, even as my body wears down. The mud clings to my skin and the cold seeps into my bones, but my heart holds on to you. I write you letters that will never see the light of day, pouring out my heart in ink that may never dry. I’m becoming more aware of the fragility of our existence—every moment feels both precious and painful.

As the artillery thunders once again, I close my eyes, whispering a silent prayer for strength. I hope you can feel my love across the miles, a flicker of light in this engulfing darkness. I promise to return to you, my dearest. I must.