An Open Letter To My Love:

I am so sorry, Hector.

For not buying you a Posture Corrector.

I saved up for months.

Had garage sales.

Put up a Lemonade stand.

I even sold myself.

But, in the end it was not enough.

And neither am I.

Goodbye, Hector.

You are a good man.

You deserve a soulmate who can provide for you that which I cannot.

I may one day return home with a Posture Corrector. I may die trying to obtain one.

But, in the end, don't you forget, you are worth the pursuit.

-a letter found in the pocket of a decapitated confederate soldier, musket still in hand, at the Siege of Vicksburg, July 2, 1863.