Chapter 2: Letter to Patrick

London England 

July 24, 1942 

The special moments that I remember my dear, Captain Patrick: 

It's not just the absence of your departure and having to share my time with a vocation that takes you away from me. 

A note that is hidden in a bottle and thrown into the depths of the sea. I look at how endless are the clockwise, a gold workshop with a description of our names that I hold on to, wanting to stop. 

Dear Lord... How much I love you! With the innocence of a first love, between the beauty of not sinning, which defines breathing and losing myself in your arms; immerse myself in your kisses and look in front of me, the colour of your eyes. The serene look, in which I surely know what I think, my love, this warm, fleeting, complacent feeling and full of words that you whisper, that are lost in my being.I cling to a foolish, insistent heart, a cloudy cause that in the midst of tragedy and on the battlefield, takes life alone; with each measure without asking, the bitterness that hurts and that separates me from you.

Sing a beautiful melody, in the new moon and attract you next to me. To be the refuge of your dreams, of your sorrows and laughter, to drink the kisses from your mouth; taking them little by little like the dew that bathes me. In everything for you, prisoner of my world that travels among swallows, in the furrows of the skies and in the chords of the violin.

Come, my beloved, you belong to me like the moon to the sea, it takes care of it so much; Suddenly in love calms her crying for not being able to touch her. He is always there for her, healing her wounds and filling the wineskin of my soul, until you come back to me.

Always yours, Eugene.