Dear Soldier Boy (3 page)

From:
[email protected]
Sent: 12/12/15 3:18To:
[email protected]

Dear Civilian Girl,

I can't sleep. This isn't a new thing, but this time it is because I am thinking about something you said. You said you could go home for Christmas, but you didn't want to. I have spent the best part of three hours thinking about why you didn't want to go home. You are well within your rights to tell me to mind my own business. I won't hold it against you if you do, Scout's honor. And yes, I really was an Eagle Scout. But if you want to tell me, I am happy to listen. Just putting it out there. No matter where you spend Christmas, I hope it's a good one.

Sincerely,

Soldier Boy

Chapter Five

Letter Post Date: December 14th

Dear Soldier Boy-Mission Impossible-Uber-Detective, (I would say 007, but I’m hoping you are a 1 gal kind of guy),

December(well you’ll know the date when you get this).

Wow, I must say, receiving an email felt a little more intimate, as your letter didn’t have to pass through x amount of people to reach me. It was just a click and in my inbox. However, I’m not sure what type of scanning system the military has in regards to screening incoming and outgoing email. Given that, I’ll go ahead and keep the nudes to myself, especially since you have already seen my face. Whereas, if you hadn’t seen my face, I could have sent random photos of who-knows-how-many women and pretend it was me. Haha!

Hmm…I’m not sure about our world domination with special fonts and manly emoticons. I don’t know if the world is ready for that. Apple just introduced the different shaded people. Can we also now have specific emoticons that are manly enough for even a top spy like yourself?

Thanks for not Googling my LinkedIn. Yes, I have one. And no, you shouldn’t look at it for our children's and grandchildren’s sake. You wouldn’t want the romance of the century to be crushed because of one small moment of curiosity. I’m sure you’re familiar with the saying, however, I don’t want to mention the “c” word again, because then you might doubt my honesty about that specific type of pet.

And I’m shocked to hear that you don’t want to meet me IRL. Seriously? I have already planned our wedding. Now that I’ve gotten that small image—and not small as in your body;  it’s obvious you work out, as I would suspect you would as a soldier—you can’t let yourself go and be plump and doughy. Which makes me think of bread…are you a carb fan or no? I’m trying a gluten-free diet. It’s interesting to say the least.

Which, by the way, the photo you saw of me on Facebook is from like, twenty years ago, and maybe like, minus two hundred pounds.

Haha! I can’t help myself. I’m just kidding. That was actually taken over Labor Day weekend. Liz, Millie, and I went on a girl’s trip to Santorini. It was the most picturesque place I’ve ever visited. I bet you might compare it to Afghanistan on a warm summer night. Imagine the sun catching the light off a sand dune in such a way that makes you think that the oasis of water is where you’ll fall in love, am I right? ;)

You never told me about the weather. Isn’t that protocol for any type of correspondence? Or am I expected to Google your whereabouts and think about what you might be experiencing? No! I’m not. I want to experience it through your words, not some weather app. Okay, I’ll admit I did add Kabul to my cities of preference on my Weather app on my phone. I couldn’t help but wonder what type of sandstorms you may or may not be encountering. I’m not even sure you’re close to Kabul, and you probably won’t tell me either, since you are so much better at keeping secrets than me.

That’s really sweet that Steven sends you care packages. Does he up the ante at Christmas and throw in some Nutella? ;)

I’m sorry to hear about your father. That must have been very difficult. And then to follow up by losing your mother as well. I wish I could reach through the screen and hug you, if that were even possible.

My dad died when I was three. So I didn’t really experience the sense of loss at an age that I could truly recognize. My mother remarried when I was seven. I like—well, scratch that—I do love my step-father, but things have been strained recently. My brother (technically step) recently died, and that’s the reason I don’t want to go home. I don’t want to be a part of all the sadness and reality of it. I haven’t been home since the funeral, and I don’t want to. Somehow, in the back of my mind, all of it isn’t really real.  I keep telling myself that it was just a production. I don’t want to deal with the reality of it. I can’t.

Whoosh…wow. I really just shared all of that with you. I went to see a counselor after he died, and never even uttered any of those words. And yet, here I am, spilling to you. Okay. But I can’t share any more sadness; that isn’t fair to you. I’m sure you see plenty of that in your environment, and you prefer flowers and sunshine from me? Ha, well, probably not sunshine. I’m assuming you get a ton of that?

Speaking of which, I could go for some sunshine, besides the words that you send me, I mean. I don’t want to sound too giddy, especially since I already told you I was planning our wedding (it was a joke just in case you didn’t get it). Except, if I was planning our wedding, I’m guessing your color would be blue since that’s the only color I have to work with from you in that picture. Which really doesn’t give me much. I guess I’ll friend request Luke and/or Steven to see what extra film footage I can get my hands on. I’m not really a gambler, but I’m going to bet they have some interesting photos of you. And probably some that are much closer than the one of you on the mountain. Even zooming in, you are too far away. Kind of like the reality of our situation. The distance is so far,  even with the capabilities of technology, can it really bring us close enough? We’ll have to try, at the very least for the grandkids. I’m assuming at least one will be named Matthew.

Seriously though, I won’t friend request either of them. I’ll wait till our wedding for you to introduce me. Haha! I’m sorry. Well, not really. I can’t help it. I find that amusing. Hopefully, you do too, or at the very least are not frightened by my joke. If so, I won’t make them anymore.

Which will take effort on my part, but I’m willing to do that for my fut—just kidding. Anyway, work has been a handful. I’ve had to stay until past nine every day this week. And in case you didn’t know, DC starts at 8AM sharp no matter what. Given this, I’m sure you can see what type of eventful social life I live. Oh yes. After I badge out, I hit up all the major night spots and dance until the club issues last call. I suppose that might be in one of your parallel universes. The one where I go out and have fun. Oh no. I’m sounding all Debbie Downer. I’m not really. And my projects normally don’t run overtime like this, but my partner—who shall remain nameless, as I don’t want you checking out their LinkedIn in fact I won’t even specify gender. I’ll just say Partner.—they made a bit of a glitch, if you will, with their calculation on a report. And because of that, the proverbial bathroom discussion material has hit the fan. And it is spinning out of control.

That's another reason that I need to bid you adieu. How about that for being multi-linguist? I bet you didn’t see that one coming. ;) (For the record, my French is limited so please don’t try and surprise me with a return letter  in French).

Oh wow, I was just about to seal this envelope, and I got your email. You’ll see I’ve answered it above.  Knowing you were at your computer at the same time as I was writing to you, I feel somewhat closer to you.

Sweet dreams Soldier Boy-Superior Spy,

Civilian Girl-Bad Spy-Great Wedding Planner ;)

[email protected]
Sent 12/15/15

[email protected]

Email December 15th

Dear Matthew,

I had to write again. After I dropped that letter in the mail, I immediately had joker’s remorse. As I was writing in my horrendous handwriting (which I don’t even know why I torture you with it, it must take you hours to decipher), I found myself amusing. But then, once it was out of my hands, I had an immediate sense of urgency to retrieve the letter. It was gone, already sent, possibly delivered, and read. And now what? Do I send this email to say I probably shouldn’t have sent the letter? Or will this email make it worse?

I’m going to sit on this email. If you write back—and I hope you do—I’ll be honest with you and send this along with my next one.

Maybe it will be good for you to see the thoughts that run through my mind.

By the way, I was wondering, do you sleep in a bunk?

Argh…I can’t just let this email sit. I’m going to send it. I know I probably won’t hear back tonight, but either way, sorry about all my jokes. I think I was just a bit too giddy about your email and your compliments, because they did make me feel good.

Yes, I have been told that I’m pretty before, and it was nice to hear. But the way you wrote about my appearance from one photo…I can’t help but admit I was swooning. And I probably shouldn’t admit that. But it’s the truth. It made me feel amazing.

That’s all. There you have it. I’ve now spilled waaaaay too much of my inner self.

I probably won’t hear back from you because of my oversharing.

But I hope I do.

Truly,

Vivian

Care Package Post Date December 17th

Dear Matthew,                                                                                                   December 17
th

I’m going to go with your name instead of (Dear Soldier), because I want this to make it to you without any confusion. I know I put your name and address on the package, but I’m not sure if it gets opened prior to making it to your hands. Which, by the way, are very nice-looking from that photo. You really know how to grip a rope. ;)

Also, since I’m not sure about how many people will see this package, I will not include any of the photos that I previously mentioned. This will remain a package that I would feel comfortable being rifled through by Luke and Steven.

Since it’s a few days before Christmas,  I did my best to see if I could have this expedited, but I’ll let you in on a secret, though it probably isn’t to you or maybe it is. Maybe you’ve never shipped anything to anyone in the military.  There is no “expediting”.

I hope that the enclosed items retain their shelf life through the journey to your very strong hands.

I know you mentioned peanut butter and syrup as being a way to your heart or stomach. Either way, I decided to stick with the theme of toppings. I have enclosed Nutella. I personally cannot keep Nutella in my house because—confession time—I would eat all of it in one sitting. I have no self-control. *hangs head in shame*

I’ve also enclosed some real maple syrup. You might prefer the chemical-laden one, but I thought I would give you a taste of the real thing, given that it is Christmas, after all.

And I’ve enclosed some caramel. It’s not as good as the one I make, but it will have to suffice for this mission.

I have also included some photos of me, so that you would have something to stick in your pocket while moving about the gorgeous landscapes of Afghanistan.

One photo is of me on the beach. I felt like this one would help you to picture me there with you given the sand and all.

The second photo is a current pic of me here in DC surrounded by the cold winter. I’ve got my Starbucks in hand, and, by the way, I asked a stranger to take this photo of me because I was in a hurry to get it developed and mailed to you.

The third photo is a clue. You’ll have to tell me what you think it is.

I’m sorry this letter isn’t as long, but I want to cut it short in hopes that it might make its way to you before Christmas.

Merry Christmas, Matthew.

Truly,

Vivian

P.S. I hope you liked the snowflake confetti… ;)

Chapter Six

From:
[email protected]
Sent: 1/6/16 23:11
To:
[email protected]
Oh, my sweet Civilian Girl,
To say you confused me is an
understatement. I got your email before I got your letter, so I was left
scratching my head for a while.
Sorry for not responding sooner, but, well,
life, and war.
I would suggest that in the future, we rely
solely on one type of correspondence to avoid confusion, but I would not know
which to suggest. Both have their benefits. Nothing beats email for instant
gratification, but there is something to be said for holding an actual letter,
and folding it, and keeping in your pocket to reread when you need a smile or a
laugh. You made me laugh out loud for real, and that is no small feat. Before
you think I'm a complete misery, I should tell you I used to laugh a lot, well,
the normal amount—if laughing was on a bell curve, I would have not been more
than a standard deviation away from average—but lately, laughs have been thin
on the ground, again because of life and well, war.
So, thank you for the laugh. I really mean
it, thank you. I feel you have given me back something I didn’t know I'd lost.
Right now, back to you, Civilian Girl.
Vivian, no more regret or remorse. That seems to be a theme with you. You let
loose, and there are these little sparks of what I am guessing is your true
personality, and then you frantically try to stomp them out. Well, I’m here to
tell you to let them burn. After all, you have nothing to lose with me.
Well, I mean, I guess I could cancel our
wedding. Oh, and of course, there are our future children to think of…It would be
a shame not to have them. I really am quite fond of little Patton and our baby
girl, Dunwoody. I have to say, Vivian, I always knew I liked you, but when you
decided to name our daughter after the first female four-star Army general, I
was floored. That's when I knew we were soul mates. I’m not ashamed to say, I
got a little misty-eyed It could also have been because you were squeezing my
hand pretty hard during labor. You are surprisingly strong, even for a 350 lbs
woman.
Oh, and while we're on the subject, don’t
worry about your recent weight gain. I'll start working out more so I can
carry you over the threshold. Failing that, I'll design a pulley system to
gracefully hoist you into our marital home. I'd finally be putting my engineering
degree to good use, so thanks again. We really should decide where out marital
home is. I am assuming near DC, maybe Virginia, so you can be close to work.
But first things first: our honeymoon.
Santorini is off the table, since we have both been there, unless you really want to go back.  It might be fun to pick a place neither of us has been. Though, saying that, I am seeing the flaw in my logic. It is our honeymoon, after all, so we are unlikely to be doing much site seeing. Best we pick a place we have both been, so two weeks spent in a hotel room doesn’t seem like a waste of leave. Not that any time spent with you would be a waste. So, Greece for our honeymoon then, agreed?
Have I scared you off yet? Perhaps I should
stick to answering your questions. I always forget to answer them, and then
during the day, something will remind me. If you ever really want me to do
something, put it on a list, or give me a direct order. I respond well to both
of those things.
Question one: the weather. Can I just say
I love that you check the weather in Kabul? Before I was stationed here, I
assumed it would be hot all the time. This is a desert, after all. Well, it is a bitterly, freeze-your-balls-off cold desert in the winter. Imagine the worst day in DC, and then add a wind so cold it actually burns. Sometimes, it feels hot on your face because your nerve endings are so frozen, you stop feeling temperature and you just feel pain. And it's very dry here. My lips are always chapped, and bizarrely, so is the skin around my eyes. Even small kids here have wrinkles around their eyes because it is so dry.
Keeping warm is a full time job in itself.
I don’t know how locals do it year after year. Actually, I do know. They don’t
all manage. Some die every year due to exposure, mostly kids. We do
our best to help with that, but there's not a lot to do when you’re up against
Mother Nature. In the winter, we make fuel pucks and distribute those to the
locals. Basically, they're a combination of saw dust and recycled paper mixed in a trash can, pressed into a mold, and then left to dry. They work
surprisingly well. It's not part of our normal duty, but every Friday and
Sunday, a group of us get together and make them. We start after dinner at about
seven and work until our fingers stop functioning. Ultimately, it
doesn’t make a difference to anyone. People will still freeze, and get
shot and maimed, but at least they can warm their hands for a few minutes, or
boil some water for a cup of tea, something, anything. That is what I tell
myself, it's something. Anyway, that wasn’t your question. Your question was
about the weather. The short answer is freezing.
Your other question was about my bed, of all
things. Woman, you have a one-track mind, I mean between that and your offer of
nude pictures, I’m glad we booked Greece for the honeymoon. Sounds like we are
going to be, um, busy.
No, I don’t have a bunk. I have a cot. I
have included a picture so you can see. Feel free to include a picture of your
bed, or you in your bed, or your cat in your bed. You can come out of the feline
closet, my little cat lady.
Now, my turn to ask questions. Where did you
end up spending Christmas? What did you do? More importantly, what did you eat?
Please tell me there was pecan pie involved. Oh, and eggnog. God, I love
eggnog. I can drink a carton by myself.
I’m lucky I’m so tall; it means I can eat more. And now that I am trying to bulk up to lift my
voluptuous wife, it is game on.
Whatever you did for Christmas, I hope you
weren’t alone, even if you didn’t go see your family. I get it though, not
wanting to engage. Sometimes, it's the only way to get through. I’m sorry about
your brother. I would like to say that it gets easier, but I have no idea if it
does. Sometimes, I think it's getting easier, and then it's back—the
wound fresh, torn open—and you wonder if you will ever feel happy again. But
then you get a letter from a beautiful American girl, and you hear someone
laughing, and you realize it is you.
So, on the whole, I can say there will be
better moments for you. I hope I can give you some.
Happy New Year, Civilian Girl. I hope this
year brings you lots of joy.
Sincerely,
Soldier Boy
P.S. Feel free to add Steven and Luke on Facebook.
Luke is very shy and might not even acknowledge your request. He is a true
introvert, except when he is with Steven. Steven, on the other hand, will confirm
you and be your best friend by sundown. He will know every deep dark secret you
have, and you won’t even realize you told him. He is impossible not to like. You
really will love him. I can actually imagine you hanging out with him. How
weird would that be, to have these two universes intersect? Anyway, I’m really
off to bed. Tonight, I am determined to sleep.