Dear Soldier Boy (4 page)

Thank you for the pictures. You’re right, I will carry them with me, even the third one, which I can’t figure out at all. It looks like a castle. I can see you, but I can’t tell what you’re doing. I might need a hint.
-Matthew

Chapter Seven

[email protected]
Sent 1/7/15

[email protected]

Dear Soldier Boy,                                                                                    

I got this email last night, it was what I read right before falling asleep in my bed. I’m attaching a photo so you can see where I catch all my important Zzs. Thank you for including a photo of where you sleep (if you are able). Though, I would have appreciated it even more if
you
were in the photo rather than the indention of where your body lays. However, given the indention in the sheets, (which I was able to really zoom in on and inspect), I was able to get a better idea of your actual size.  The mountain pic gave me an idea, but with the mountain being so big, and the photo being taken so far away, well, I think you get where I’m going here.

Anyway, Matthew, I think I figured out why you have a hard time sleeping. That bed is not big enough for you. Your indention is huge. That’s what she said. Haha! I couldn’t help myself. I know that joke is old, but does it ever truly get old? Well, I suppose you will have to tell me.

Now, the photo I’m enclosing of my bed is at its best possible impression for you. I have removed all fifty-seven of my stuffed animals (just kidding, I don’t sleep with any stuffed animals). And there is no cat or cat anything in my house. I really even hate myself a bit for typing cat again in an email to you, but I feel you must know that, though I joke about quite a few things, cats are not among them. *shudders*

I bought my comforter when I got my job offer from X Company. It was a proud moment for me, and to celebrate, I thought it would be great idea to buy a comforter to commemorate the moment. Little did I know,  I would not be getting as much sleep as I had intended underneath these sheets. They’re lavender, by the way. You can’t tell from the comforter, so I thought I would tell you.

Enough about my bed, you already think I have a one-track mind, and given that mountain climbing photo, well, I might have imagined climbing—nope I won’t say. ;)

It hurts to think that your laughter has been missing. I imagine your voice and wonder if it’s raspy or really deep. I hope it’s not like David Beckham’s. I used to have a crush on him, and then it was ruined by his voice. Not his accent, as I do enjoy an accent, but the tone. It was small like a boy. *shudders again*

Looking back now, I can see how his voice matches his appearance in a way that I had never noticed before. He doesn’t look like a boy or anything, but I can see how his voice makes sense. Good grief, I can’t believe I just did a play by play of David Beckham’s voice for you. Yawn fest!

Seriously, though, I can’t imagine your voice being bad. I wish I could hear you, but then, not yet. I like the mysteriousness of it. Kind of like the fact that I don’t really have a close enough photo of you. I’m not sure if I saw you in a crowd that I would recognize you.

I did print out the photo, though, and have it on my desk at work. I wrote on the photo with a pink sharpie, “My fiancé.” I hope that’s okay with you? Haha! Can you imagine? And further, my coworkers would really question my sanity. Or maybe not. I don’t know. Either way, I haven’t done that.

I think movies can tell a lot about a person, and you mentioned your laughter being missing. What movies made you laugh out loud?

I’ll tell you the last movie that had me in tears was
Bridesmaids
(not because of the wedding theme of my letters), it’s a really funny movie.

Patton and Dunwoody? Oh Matthew, I’m not sure about those names. Dunwoody would have a hard time at school. Hopefully, Patton comes first and can protect her from all the bullying she’ll have to deal with given that name.

Thank you. I am strong, even given my obesity. I recently finished my first 5k. I bet that is nothing compared to your mile count, but it was a big endeavor for me. I’ve never been a runner or exerciser, etc. But I wanted to do it for my brother. He was always athletic, and after he died, I felt compelled to run (well, walk-jog, like I said I’m not a runner). Anyway, I started that Couch to 5k program, and then ran in the Turkey Trot over Thanksgiving. It was a trot for me. So many people were whipping by me, I felt like a turkey that was going to be gobbled up by the crowd. But I wasn't. I finished the race (before it ended, thankfully) and crossed the finish line. It was really a special moment. Somehow, and I know this is weird,  I felt like Tommy was running alongside me, cheering me on.

But back to my strength, anyway, Tommy had always tried to get me into running, etc., and I never wanted to. I would go to his races in high school and cheer him on, but always from the sidelines. When he left, he told me that if I ever decided to take up running, then I needed to make sure to balance it with strength training. I laughed it—and him–off, and that was the last time we spoke.

So, now I run, and it makes me feel closer to him. And I strength train too, even though I hate lifting weights more than running. But hopefully, it will help counter the possibility of me getting osteoporosis, as I am getting up there in my years. ;)

Honeymoon planning! Yes, love the idea of Santorini. I looked out at the ocean while I was there and just knew, someday, I'd return with the love of my life.  Now, it’s all coming into place. I love that you’ve been there too. I wouldn’t want to go to a place that I had experienced on my own first and then go with you….awkward.

Scared me off? Ha, not possible, Soldier Boy. I’m in this for the long haul. I’ve already gone overboard on my sappy emotions with you. If you haven’t given up, then I’ve got to do my best to keep you, as there isn’t any other person on this planet who'd  have me and all my wacky thoughts.

Ooh, I like the idea of giving you a direct order. I’ll keep that in mind for later. ;)

Wow, I had no idea it gets that cold and awful in Kabul. Yes, I checked my weather app, but like I said, I knew you would be able to give me something that the weather app couldn’t. Well, there are lots of things you could give me that the weather app can’t. ;) Haha! I can’t help myself. I’m really not infatuated with the idea of sex and you. Well, maybe I am; who knows? I guess I’m the only one with that answer. Haha!

That’s so sweet of you to make the warmers. Who does that with you? What are their names? Soldier Boy, describe them to me.

Argh…my Christmas was a disaster. I know I shouldn’t say that, given how you probably spent yours. But I want to be honest with you. It was horrible. The worst Christmas of my life. And no, I’m not exaggerating. It really was.

So, on December 23
rd
, my boss came into my office and told me that everyone needed to go home and visit their families. Given all the heat and fire (the fan issue I had mentioned before),  we needed to take advantage of the fact that we could be with our families when so many could not. I didn’t want to seem like a cold-hearted woman and not go, and I couldn’t lie about it. So I did it. I drove home, and it was so bad, Matthew, it hurts to even say. Everything was terrible, from the moment I walked into my parents’ house, until the moment I left on Christmas day. Yes, I drove home on Christmas day in a snow storm, no less. Not because I had to rush to get back—my boss gave us time off until the 27
th
—but because I had to get out. I couldn’t breathe in my parents’ house. It was awful not seeing Tommy. Every inch of the home is filled with memories of him. And being there on Christmas brought it all to light, the reality of it. Tommy is gone. Really gone. Not on some secret tour or hiding out. He didn’t go AWOL. He is dead. And it sucks so bad. I cried more tears than I thought could fall from my eyes. And after all my tears had fallen, and I finally felt like I might be able to make it through the rest of my visit, I was sitting at the dinner table with my mom and step dad, and he looked over at me and shook his head.

The disappointment and disgust in his eyes were more than I thought possible from one person, but there it was. He blames me. I thought he might, but seeing him and his look confirmed it. So, I excused myself from the table, and I left. I haven’t talked to either of them since. I’m not sure if my mom feels the same way, but she definitely didn’t try to console me or stop me from leaving. Not that she should; I get it. But there you have it, my bad Christmas.

I probably should delete all of that, but I won’t. It’s probably best you know.

I’m sorry. I know I said I was going to try and be more sunshine (and now I know you do need sunshine because of the temperature) and flowers, but that is how I spent my Christmas. I didn’t even get to dessert.

After I made my way home, I was done feeling sorry for myself, and since I had no letters from you (insert trying to make you feel guilty emoticon even though the lack of letters was obviously not because you were able to, but I did miss hearing from you a lot). Anyway, back to sunshine and flowers.  I downloaded this book about pecan pie. In fact, well, it was a romance.  It was fun and it got me out of my “funk”.

And on to my New Years...by the way, how did you spend yours? Hopefully, not kissing anyone. After my boss gave us Christmas off, he must have decided that was a little too generous, so we worked until 1AM on New Years. Which was pure bliss, let me tell you. A few of my coworkers brought some champagne, and my partner tried to kiss me at the stroke of midnight. Thankfully, my weight lifting has paid off a bit, and I was able to push my partner away. But it was very awkward and uncomfortable at the office for the next few days.

That being said, I’ve probably delivered way more awkwardness and emotions than one email could. Yikes. I’m a bit embarrassed by all of it, but it is me.

I won’t try and friend request either Steven or Luke on Facebook. I can only imagine how weird it would be for them to delete me after you read this letter and decide against the wedding.

But if you don’t, I’ll be waiting.

Truly,

Civilian Girl-with insecurities

P.S. Here is your hint on the third photo: Verificare

Care Package

Dear Matthew,                                                                                                                               January 7
th

I hope this package arrives promptly. I, of course, am regretting my last email to you. But it is what it is. I thought you should know about my Christmas.

Anyway, as I’m writing this to you I’m not sure if you’ll ever respond again. But I wanted to send you something to warm up, regardless.

Enclosed are some chap sticks for your lips, as if we ever meet your lips can’t be blistered. That would be a turn off. ;)

Eye cream. I’ve already mentioned my age, and I have no idea of yours, but you definitely want to apply some eye cream, given the harsh environment of Afghanistan in January.

Lotion (I’m sure you know what to do with that. ;) )

Ball warmers…I didn’t even know they made them but after you mentioned how yours were getting cold well, if perchance we are to have children, we can’t cut out the possibility of it with your manly parts being frozen.

Hand warmers in the shape of a heart, I’m sending mine to you. I duplicated it so that you would have one for each hand.

And finally, a kiss. (It’s chocolate. I hope you are a fan.)

Truly,
Vivian

Chapter Eight

From:
[email protected]
Sent: 1/19/16 23:07
To:
[email protected]
Dear Civilian Girl,
I am writing to you with a very full belly
and a very happy heart. I got your care package today. I can honestly say it
was the best Christmas present ever. Thank you Vivian. It was really thoughtful
of you and I appreciate it. I have not
had Nutella since I was a kid. Growing up in Germany, my Mom used to give it to
us on toast as a treat after school. I forgot about that until I opened the
package. I loved the snowflake confetti, by the way. Nice touch, very festive,
and worth having to get on my hands and knees to clean up. Because I know you,
I can hear you saying something about doing whatever it takes to get me on my
knees. But because I pretend to be a gentleman, I will not rise to the bait,
even though you can rest assured the same thoughts went through my mind as
well.
Anyway, back to the Nutella, I had very
noble plans of sharing it, or at least rationing it, so it lasted longer, but
sadly it wasn’t to be. Temptation: Nutella is thy name. I could lie and say I
did not finish the entire jar in one sitting, but again, a gentleman endeavors
never to lie to a lady. So, Vivian, I admit I was a complete glutton. I was
like Chunk doing the truffle shuffle. Have you seen
Goonies
? Great movie.
I don’t think I can face food for at least
a couple of days, which is saying a lot. There was an ongoing joke in my family
that I was always hungry. My dad always said he would hate to be stranded with
me in the Andes—remember, like that rugby team whose plane went down in the
mountains and they had to eat each other to stay alive? My dad said the rescue
team would find me gnawing on a thigh bone and they would be like, “Seriously,
you've only been stranded for eight hours.”
Great, now I'm wooing you with stories of
cannibalism. I don’t think I can get any more suave than that. I mean, I pretty
much nailed it on the charm offensive with that one, so I might as well go to
bed. This is why I made a list of
appropriate conversation topics. I really did. Now I just need to stick to it.
Ok, next on my list: your bed. Not many men
can pull off the cannibalism to bedroom transition like that. Smooth is
my middle name. Actually, it's John, like my dad. Yes, my family had a Matthew,
a
Luke, and a John, just like the gospels. We were only missing a Mark. Anyway your bed, it is huge, like, room-for-a-party-or-all-your-cats huge. I have slept in a twin bed my entire life unless I
am at a hotel, and then I always wake up in a starfish formation because my
sleeping self is determined to utilize every square inch of mattress space. I
am 6
'4", so I cover a lot of bed. How tall are you, by the way? From your picture,
you look petite. Either that or all your friends are Amazonians. And yes, I may
have been looking at your Facebook profile again. Who is the guy in the tux
with you? You are wearing that red dress that makes your...damn I am not sure
how to say this and still maintain the façade of respectability. You look good,
damn good. You look good in all your pictures, but that is the one where I can
see the most of you.
Moving swiftly on. before you discover my
lecherous ways. Number two on the list: my voice. No, I do not have a David
Beckham voice. No falsetto here. If you want to hear my voice, you can on
Steven’s Facebook. I am holding the camera and mocking him relentlessly as he
tries, and fails, to open a magnum with a sword. It was at their commitment
ceremony. You might even see a shot of my feet, if I remember correctly. I had
had a lot to drink at that point, and my hands were not as steady as they could
be. And before you say it, yes, I have big feet, and yes, I know what they say
about men with big feet. And I love “That's what she said” jokes, by the way.
The classics never get old.
Number three: Movies I like. My favorite
movie is
Diehard
. I could watch that film every week. All of the
Diehard
movies. Bruce
Willis deserved an Oscar; that man was robbed. If you tell me you don’t like
Diehard
, we
might as well end this right now. I need my Ironics font here just so you know
I am kidding. I love Bruce, but not enough to give up my Civilian Girl.
Number four: running. Awesome job on your
first 5k. The first 5 are the hardest. I will admit, I love running. It is my
only cardio. I tried spinning because everyone said I would love it, but my legs are
too long. Even when I raised the handlebars as far as they would go, my knees
kept banging, and when I stood, my center of gravity was too high. It was a
mess. Never again. I will stick to running. I have done the Army Marathon in DC
three times, and I did an ultra-marathon last year. That was…well, an experience.
You get to 27 miles, and you realize you have another marathon to run. That
point really messes with your head. Luckily, I am so pig-headed, I would have
crossed the finish line even if I was dragging my coughed up organs behind
me. But again, like spinning, it is not
an experience I will be repeating.
Point number five: I am sorry your Christmas
was so shitty. I obviously don’t know the ins and outs, and I would never
presume to know what anyone was feeling, but I do know that grief makes people
lash out in ways you can’t always understand. Some pain is so intense that you
just can’t process it. You can push it down for a while, but it always pushes
back. I think that is what your parents are feeling. I don’t know. Just the
incoherent ramblings of a frozen soldier.
Point number six: the kiss. I almost looked
up your company after you told me about your partner kissing you. You cleverly
avoided pronouns, so I still don’t know the sex of your partner, and I have no
idea if I am justified in my desire to punch him. But you did avoid giving any
more clues, so well played, Civilian Girl, we will make a spy out of you yet.