My beautiful Jane,
Today you are hurting; you’re in a world of pain I can’t take away. I’m sorry. I hope that you will bear with me in this letter. I will try and find a few words to press on this paper to give you insight or at least a bit of foresight or something dreadfully close to it; I want to give you hope.
Because you’re six months old and fell asleep with a smile on your face looking up at me. I can’t imagine the day when the tears on your face will be from a broken heart instead of an empty tummy or dirty diaper. This hurts my heart.
You came into this world screaming with a fist in the air. From that moment I knew that you were not going to ever go down without a fight. I was filled with an immense pride too large for words. And yet, for a self-proclaimed macho man, holding you was a humbling experience.
Darling, so is pain. It takes us and breaks us and scars us. But just because you bear the scars of a love lost does not mean that it all is destroyed, it just feels like that right now. And that is okay.
It is okay to allow the hurt its time to humble you. Do not rush the process. That will be a mistake of grand scale and it will haunt you. Instead, let it hurt but then let it heal. Because you can love a person in your life and one that is not in your life. You can love them anyway.
That is all the advice I have. I hope I am not deployed when you are in pain. But it may happen. So, in my absence, I hope this letter brings you a flicker of hope and peace. I hope you don’t stop fighting, it is not the way your DNA is encoded.
Trust me, I’ve seen you fight sleep before, I know what you’re capable of. Hurt. Heal. Love anyway. And the world will keep moving but most importantly, your world will continue to spin.
I love you hopelessly my beautiful angel girl,
P.S.- I’m not above physical violence. So please don’t date a twat or pisser.