Dear Ruth,
I dreamed about you again last night-I guess I dream about you every night, and most days, too. I hold your face in my mind; I put your voice together in my head. I think about your hair getting longer; think about your belly getting bigger. I hear people talk about regret, but I haven't got any. I don't think poorly on things that I have done-we did what we did and that is what we are. They're gonna cross out this sentence before you get to read it, but I know you know what it says: every day I wake up thinking today's the day I'm gonna see you, and one of these days it will be so. And until then I' ll keep writing you. I'll write you every day. And someday you'll get a letter from me, and you'll look up and it'll be me who's handing it to you. And we can forget about words, and I'll touch your face, and I'll kiss you... and I'll take our baby girl in my arms, and we'll ride off to somewhere... far away. Write to me soon, any chance you get .
Love, Bob
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Every day I wake up thinking today's the day I'm gonna see you. And one of those days, it will be so. And then we can ride off to somewhere. Somewhere far away.
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