Tenth letter, Home

Mark finally finds a place to call home, he's steps away from achieving his dream, so is Leo.

Dear Brandy,

I hope this letter finds you at well, it's almost Christmas, I wonder what is it that you want for Christmas, thank you for calling my mother, she felt happy about it, and to be honest so did I, I now know that you've been reading my letters, still I wounder how do you feel about them.
We have rented two apartments in the city, we almost got enough money to buy the shop, we have found a good place, we're buying the estate instead of renting it, we have sold our supply of coffee, it was enough to buy Leo his own car, now we ride each on his own, we live each on his own but we share the same dream, funny how two strangers became good friends because of black coffee, cigarettes and good music, Leo works in a bank now, he teaches music on weekends, he's doing fine if you ask me, Sharon is getting a job soon, and I'm working as a translator for the army, never thought those Spanish lessons would do me good, but they did, I also work for another newspaper, so my work is full of politics, and you know how much do I hate politics, and I often spend nights away from home, never thought I'd call that empty apartment home.
I still see Leo and Sharon once or twice a week, Sharon keeps inviting me to dinner, what a kind girl.
We're still looking for furniture for the Cafe, we had our eyes on that huge piano that will fit perfectly in the middle, my two guitars on the walls, in addition to Leo's, I can picture it perfectly, soothing place with Mahogany wood tables, and few photos on the  wall, Sharon already took few good ones of our journey, and the smell of freshly made coffee in the air, I can feel it coming true.
I'm clean and sober still, I miss the taste of neat whiskey at the evenings, I'm still a loner in case you were wondering, although I was dragged into many blind dates, but I feel nothing special in the women I meet, it's like there's something pulling me down, perhaps it's just fear.
Brandy, I got your letter, I never did hate you, I never will, but it's my pride that keeps pushing me away, it's my pride that has been pushing me through all that time, and I would like it to push me further, so please don't send me more letters or try to call me, at least until my dream comes true, I taught few troopers about prayer at 3:33am, they prayed for their brothers' souls, they prayed for me and you, now it's me, Sharon, the crowds which we used to sing for, Vyvienne and the troopers, every night same time; we all prayed, even under attack, we prayed.
After all these letters I still don't know when my next letter would be, and now that I'm sure you're reading my letters, I will always write you, be sane and be well.
Yours truly,
 Mark.