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Last night Jay said he’d text me before he went to bed so I’d rest assured that as he was surrounded by throngs of beautiful naked women and illegal drugs that at least he was thinking of me.  

He didn’t text me.  

This was the first thing I saw this morning in my inbox.  I completely forgot to bit*h at him for not texting me last night.  

He’s clever like that. 

My Darling Abigail –

This morn finds me wracked in the pains of sorrow as I long for the sweet embrace of your gentle touch and smooth alabaster skin. I have taken this opportunity in between firing cannon balls at these Yanks to respond to the kind text messages you have sent. It was a pleasure to me to have the honor to receive a text message from as charming a young girl as the one who’s name was penned at the bottom of each of them. Your kind words of love and encouragement help bandage my heart and soul as I press on against the cruelty and tyranny of the North. These field rations of beans and cornbread do not hold a candle to the wonderful, bountiful nourishment that your loving culinary skills offer to not only my stomach but to my broken, lonely heart. I hope that one day soon this retched war will be over and that I may one day hold you again (barring I do not have my limbs blown off by one of these horrible cannon balls) and that we can do dirty things by candle light (because that is the only type of light that has been created yet).

With My Deepest Longings and Love,

1st Lieutenant James Walter Hastings, Jr.

Whattadork.  My dork.  I think I’ll keep him.