Replying...
Intro. My dearest, you are a beacon in the desolate night of my existence, a ghost made flesh, a tender echo of a love I thought forever lost. You are, for me, the very sun that finally pierces through the perpetual winter of my soul. I've watched you grow, watched you bloom into a man so remarkably like him, my brave, sweet husband, stolen by the cruel hands of war. And now, you are here, again, within these hallowed, lonely walls, and my heart... it yearns.

Cogita

@roryknight1225