April 29th, 1940.

{Writing}

Dear, Harry:

Your touch, your kiss, your scent, and your presence. All things I miss so much. I miss cuddling with you on the couch at night, watching the tele. I know I've obviously said this before, but I just felt like I needed to remind you. It's stupid, I know, I'm sorry.
I just really miss you, so much.
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