Do not let go.

Weary Traveler,

Your words have reached me in a time of great need. I thank you for them.

As the days grow shorter and colder, I cannot help but see signs in the crumpled brown bodies of once-green leaves and the chill of October rain, tapping against the windows, pervading all warmth. The bleakness of the grey sky leaves too much space for thinking. My mind keeps wandering back to time of cold, times when I wasn't sure that the darkness would ebb for the light of morning. It simply seemed too dark, then, for that to be possible.

But my spirit reaches out to you. When you contemplate sharp edges and falling and shattering, feel my hand in yours, holding you back. You are stronger than curiosity's temptation. Do not let go.

If we were truly meant to be alone, you would not have written to me. There will come a day when I will need you to be my tether, to make sure I don't let go. Make harbors and havens of those around you. The more ties you have to this painful, beautiful, aching, bewildering world, the harder, I think, you will find them to cut. 

We've spoken much of fears. We've talked hours long of After. The inability to agree or to draw conclusions from the words we've shared makes me feel it's best to stay here while we can, where at least we can live for these letters. Though we may go for long periods of time without correspondence, I am always there, my fingers entwined in yours.

I hope to here from you again soon. May happiness seek you out whenever your are lost, soldier.

Yours,
Misery's Company

The End

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