The letter layed there. My thoughts were as empty as a lover's heart that was brutally broken. I closed my eyes and I could hear his warm voice and see his icy blue eyes pierce the strongest parts of my seemlingly firm soul. Releasing their anger, the waves crashed against the innocent sandy beaches only to be returned back to the ocean.

This had happened only six months before he was deployed. the last time i saw him, the church was nearly empty and the American flag proudly layed over him. His warm voice did not speak to me and soothe my ever-escaping thoughts. His icy blue eyes did not pierce me to find what it was that I was really thinking.

Opening my eyes, the letter was still on the table. It contained his last words, his last thoughts to me, his last feelings, and his last touch of life. I traced my finger over the dry course letter. How it looked so innocent, baige colored, his writing on it, down to the very patterns that the paper left when it was dried. It released feelings of hate and anger only to be followed by sadness and fear. The grainy touch of the envelope transforemed itself to the smooth safe touch of my beloved cousin. I sat and thought of his last few moments: the banging, the bombs, the breaking, the bashing and the blowing all to be followed by the eternal silence that we all face. Some, sooner than others.

the letter still waited, Eddy still waited. The clocks still ticked, the birds sang, and the cold air overtook me. i let out a shiver that ran itself up my spine. I had a choice of opening the letter or not. I had a choice of causing myself pain or happiness. I could still smell that ocean air.

One day, I did read it, and i went to his final resting place. Such a gray place it was, But his tombstone shown itself elegant against the emrald green grass. The sky was icy blue just like his eyes. The ground made itself warm, just like his touch. the letter was a grainy texture along with the dirt i buried it in