Your words are cold comfort, at best..
I know things are strained between us, and everything is different with your “condition”, but I still find myself missing you—missing our connection. I don’t know if you remember, but we used to talk—lay together and watch the stars go by and just talk. You often worried about Evelos while he was growing up, and sometimes about Tyrdan. We would laugh at their antics and cry sometimes about their hurts—or ours. You would hold me when I felt wretched and somehow always seemed to know what to say to make things better. Not always, probably, but it felt that way. Maybe just because I’m feeling a little lost right now.
Look, I won’t bore you or embarrass you anymore in case someone else reads this. I hear some letters are confisticated now by the Forsaken, and there’s been rumor of rebellion since whatever happened to Baine. Please be careful. And maybe we’d better not speak of children for the time being.