Dearest,
We are at the height of battle. My comrades and I move ever forward, meeting our enemy and emerging victorious more often than being overcome. We have fallen into a routine. Sometimes that routine is thwarted by unexpected obstacles, but still we perservere. The end seems not as far off this week. We have crested the rise, so to speak, and can see in the distance our final destinations. We are encouraged.
I have finally felt as though I have gotten my wits about me and my feet underneath me. I feel as though I no longer flounder like the rookies. We still have a ways to go and I miss you terribly, but only the length of what we have already endured yet remains.
I will make it home to you. This is swear.
All my love,
~S
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