Sullivan to Sarah, during the Civil War

My very dear Sarah:
The indications are very strong that we shall move in a few days -- perhaps tomorrow. Lest I should not be able to write you again, I feel impelled to write lines that may fall under your eye when I shall be no more.
Our movement may be one of a few days duration and full of pleasure -- and it may be one of severe conflict and death to me. Not my will, but thine 0 God, be done. If it is necessary that I should fall on the battlefield for my country, I am ready. I have no misgivings about, or lack of confidence in, the cause in which I am engaged, and my courage does not halt or falter. I know how strongly American Civilization now leans upon the triumph of the Government, and how great a debt we owe to those who went before us through the blood and suffering of the Revolution. And I am willing -- perfectly willing -- to lay down all my joys in this life, to help maintain this Government, and to pay that debt.
But, my dear wife, when I know that with my own joys I lay down nearly all of yours, and replace them in this life with cares and sorrows -- when, after having eaten for long years the bitter fruit of orphanage myself, I must offer it as their only sustenance to my dear little children -- is it weak or dishonorable, while the banner of my purpose floats calmly and proudly in the breeze, that my unbounded love for you, my darling wife and children, should struggle in fierce, though useless, contest with my love of country?
I cannot describe to you my feelings on this calm summer night, when two thousand men are sleeping around me, many of them enjoying the last, perhaps, before that of death -- and I, suspicious that Death is creeping behind me with his fatal dart, am communing with God, my country, and thee.
I have sought most closely and diligently, and often in my breast, for a wrong motive in thus hazarding the happiness of those I loved and I could not find one. A pure love of my country and of the principles have often advocated before the people and "the name of honor that I love more than I fear death" have called upon me, and I have obeyed.
Sarah, my love for you is deathless, it seems to bind me to you with mighty cables that nothing but Omnipotence could break; and yet my love of Country comes over me like a strong wind and bears me irresistibly on with all these chains to the battlefield.
The memories of the blissful moments I have spent with you come creeping over me, and I feel most gratified to God and to you that I have enjoyed them so long. And hard it is for me to give them up and burn to ashes the hopes of future years, when God willing, we might still have lived and loved together and seen our sons grow up to honorable manhood around us. I have, I know, but few and small claims upon Divine Providence, but something whispers to me -- perhaps it is the wafted prayer of my little Edgar -- that I shall return to my loved ones unharmed. If I do not, my dear Sarah, never forget how much I love you, and when my last breath escapes me on the battlefield, it will whisper your name.
Forgive my many faults, and the many pains I have caused you. How thoughtless and foolish I have oftentimes been! How gladly would I wash out with my tears every little spot upon your happiness, and struggle with all the misfortune of this world, to shield you and my children from harm. But I cannot. I must watch you from the spirit land and hover near you, while you buffet the storms with your precious little freight, and wait with sad patience till we meet to part no more.
But, O Sarah! If the dead can come back to this earth and flit unseen around those they loved, I shall always be near you; in the garish day and in the darkest night -- amidst your happiest scenes and gloomiest hours -- always, always; and if there be a soft breeze upon your cheek, it shall be my breath; or the cool air fans your throbbing temple, it shall be my spirit passing by.
Sarah, do not mourn me dead; think I am gone and wait for thee, for we shall meet again.
As for my little boys, they will grow as I have done, and never know a father's love and care. Little Willie is too young to remember me long, and my blue-eyed Edgar will keep my frolics with him among the dimmest memories of his childhood. Sarah, I have unlimited confidence in your maternal care and your development of their characters. Tell my two mothers his and hers I call God's blessing upon them. O Sarah, I wait for you there! Come to me, and lead thither my children.
Sullivan

I know he doesn't see.

I know he doesn't know either. He's so far off. But it's hard now. I love him. Part of me feels like I'm lying. Part of me knows that I cannot hold this love anymore. But part of me wants to see him more than anything. I want to wish him a happy 18th. I want to tell him good luck after graduation. I want to know if he's available. I want to see him again. And part of me thinks that that's ok. Part of me knows it's not. Because what if he's still seeing her? What if he's in love with her? What if she's the one for him. I don't know. I never will, will I??? Unless, unless I were to write him. Am I willing to take that leap? Yes. Am I willing to break my heart again? Yes. He was worth it.
But maybe I shouldn't get in his way. Maybe. Maybe if we're really really meant to be together we will be. I have to just trust that. If we're really meant to be together we will be. And no amount of me thinking about it will change that.
And if we're not meant to be together, forcing it will just make it worse.
But I love him.
But I can't.
He's so far.
He chose her...she must be incredible.
Either she is really incredible, or the distance was just too much for him.
Either the distance was too much for him or maybe I'm not as incredible.
Or, maybe he's not the romantic that I thought he was.
How could that be though? After the things we said, the things we promised one another? How can it be that he isn't?
Because he was. He was everything. I didn't deserve him. I wasn't ready.
I wish I could see him again. I remember praying that I could see him one last time so I could tell him goodbye.
And I did.
But now, months later, I have this relapse where I just can't stop thinking about him. Maybe it's because prom came and went. Maybe it's because many of my friends are dating now and pharimones are flying. Maybe it's all the roses everywhere before graduation. Maybe it's just spring. Whatever it is, it's unbearable. And hopeless. And it stings.
And then there's leaving home. Leaving home for college. Breathe. I just really want to see him that's all. I just really want to hold him and forgive him and love him. Maybe I should tell him that. Maybe I should let him know. I remember how I cried that day. I remember how I called my best friend right after we broke up and she helped me get through it. I remember seeing him in everything. I still do. Every time I look at the stars and think of the kiss. Every time the wind blows I hear his name. Every time the sun shines in the blue sky I see his eyes. Unto the insanity that now infiltrates my being and takes over. A little obsessed? Hardly.
I stare at the keyboard tears in my face, and feel nothing. My fingers are electrified with a rage only known to those who know betrayal and heartbreak. A rage only known to young romantics who let the romance become cynicism.
I know he doesn't see, or understand. I know he doesn't feel what I feel. Maybe he's just not as romantic as I was. As I assumed he was.
Fair is foul
Foul is fair.
Hover through fog and filthy air.