Dear Soldier Boy (9 page)

Your future self was able to point out that this is going to be like climbing a mountain. It’s going to be long, and hard, and difficult (and I won’t make a sexual joke here but I’m sure you can guess what I’m thinking). But the point is,  this is worth the journey. I know that. I feel that. And I hope you do too. I want to climb this mountain with you, Matthew. I’m in this for the long haul, and I’m sorry for needing to ask you. But I did.

With Love, Your Civilian Girl,

Vivian

Chapter Eighteen

From:
[email protected]
Sent: 5/12/16 01:58
To:
[email protected]
Dear Vivian,
God, I hope this gets to you in time. Please
tell me I’m not too late. I’m sorry. God, I’m sorry. But please understand, I
didn’t have a choice. There was a complete communication blackout for the last
ten weeks. Obviously, I can’t tell you why, but if you’re still nursing your
C-SPAN addiction, you’ll figure it out. I can’t say any more than that. Someday,
I will. If I can, I will explain everything. You might not like me after you
hear everything, but I need to tell you, because you deserve complete honesty.
If we are going to make a go of this, which I hope we still can, you need to
know everything, all my rough edges, all my flaws (they are too numerous to
list), and all my secrets. Even the one I try to keep from myself.
I will tell you everything, Vivian, once we
meet, and then you can decide if you still want me. But I’m yours and here if you
want me.
Every day that went by, I thought about the
stupid email I sent. I was angry and I lashed out. I didn’t think. I just
pounded out my frustration on the keyboard. I took out my anger and my fear on you. I was
scared that you were slipping away, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
You are 7,000 miles away, but it feels like so many more. I thought of Mark
consoling you, telling you more lies. And you believing them. And I lost it.
I’m sorry. So sorry.
Here is the email I should have sent:
My sweet
Civilian Girl,
There has been
no one since you. You are the only one I
want. Nothing will change that. Ever. Now and forever yours,

Matthew
God, I wish I had sent that email instead of
the one I sent. And I wished I would have explained that there are some times I
won’t be able to contact you, but I will always be thinking about you. I don’t
even want to think about the thoughts going through your mind when I didn’t
write back. I’m so sorry.
Mark is an asshole. Let’s get that
straight. Everything he told you about Afghani women servicing soldiers is
straight-up bullshit. I have never seen it or even heard about it. That is not
to say it has not happened, but never with me or my men.
He told you that to scare you and paint me
in the worst possible light. He really didn’t need to make up that shit,
because I had already painted a pretty dire picture of myself.
I was too honest. I told you too much. You
didn’t need to hear about my sexual history. I could have left it at “not a
virgin, but no serious relationships to report.” I told you that I’m new to this. I
don’t know how much or little you want from me. There is no handbook for this.
I do really well with handbooks. Tell me what is expected, and I will do it.
If I were a smarter man, I would have
realized that telling you about my past would make you feel like you were just
another conquest. But ABSOLUTELY nothing is further from the truth. That is why
I told you, so you would see just how different this is. I have never had
anything like this. So, in that way, I am the inexperienced one, a relationship
virgin, you could say. Yep, you’re my first, Vivian, so please be gentle with
me.
Once more, my timing was shit. But you’re
right, I don’t give up on anything. I’m not giving up on you, on me, or on us. We are more than our bad timing and
missed chances. We have to be. Please tell me we are.
Please stop listening to Mark. His
objective is abundantly clear: he will do or say anything. As much as I hate him, I can’t say I blame him, at least objectively
(not that I can even pretend to be objective about you). He is fighting for what
he wants. As they say, all is fair in love and war. Unfortunately, this is both.
And it sucks.
So tell me, Civilian Girl, am I too late?
Love,
Matthew

Chapter Nineteen

[email protected]
Sent 5/13/16

[email protected]

Dear Soldier Boy,                                                                                                 

Guess what, tomorrow’s my birthday. Whohoo! How am I going to spend it, you might wonder? Well, I’m running a race with my dog. Well, it’s not really my dog. It’s Mark’s dog. I’m watching it for him. It wasn’t something I signed up or asked for. Mark showed up at my house seven weeks ago with Duke’s leash, food bowl, and bag of treats. I almost don’t want to type treats because Duke is crazy about them. Like really crazy. He is super calm for most things, but if you mention even the sound “tr” together, then he goes bat wild. He runs up and down my stairs. (I live in a three story townhouse by the way). It's really good that I don’t have an apartment, because I’m sure my neighbors would not like listening to when Duke goes all treats-wild.

I actually said that out loud, so now I’m back. I had to get him some treats, and then after his treats, he likes a really long belly rub. Like forever. I could probably be certified to be a masseuse at this point with the number of belly rubs I provide to Duke. And please don’t ask why I can’t just walk away and stop the belly rub. Because I’ve tried, believe me. But Duke will come over and bop my arm, my leg, anything with his cold nose (and it’s big; he’s a German Shepherd), until I give in and give him the never-ending belly rub.

Anyway, Mark said that Duke is a good runner and that he always runs with him, so I signed us up for a race in Georgia. Just the two of us. I even found a doggy hotel for us. I’m a little concerned about the smell, but I’m guessing Duke will be fine with it. So, I’m off to Georgia for the weekend.

The race is tomorrow. I’m packing everything up now and am leaving tonight. I don’t like driving at night, but Mark said that Duke is trained to protect me, etc. He’s one of those Schutzhund trained dogs. Which, I believe, he doesn’t like it if anyone gets near me unless I give the right command. Mark left me with a book so I would know which words to use. I never really thought I would want a German Shepherd. I had mentioned before about how much I love dogs, but I thought when I got one, it would be small? Anyway, Duke is really well-trained and it’s been really nice having him around. The idea of him not being around makes me sad.

Back to Mark. Yes, I have been following C-SPAN religiously, ha not religiously because I already mentioned I don’t go to church. But I have not “kicked” my C-SPAN addiction and now Duke watches with me. I feel like he knows that Mark is there too and is worried about him.

So, seven weeks ago, Mark showed up with Duke and asked that I watch him. He said he’d never been in a kennel, and he couldn’t bear to think about him being in one for who-knows-how-long. And honestly, I didn’t want to think of that either. That would be really sad. Mark told me he has no family or any friends besides me whom he'd trust with Duke, and would I please watch him. I took one look in Duke’s big brown eyes, and I said yes.

I’m having so much fun with Duke that I don’t want to give him back. I know Mark will come back, or at least I’m assuming he will, and he will want Duke back, because Duke is awesome. But anyway, back to Mark. He asked if I would write to him. He said that he didn’t have anyone else to write to, and he really wanted to hear about how Duke was doing, and maybe I would read his letters to Duke.

I hope you don’t mind. I feel somewhat guilty writing to Mark, and honestly, he seems to have much more time than you do to write. He writes me every single day. Tells me about every single thing he has encountered in great detail, and then he writes about his childhood. I swear, he is trying to use me as a means to get his memoir accomplished. By the way, we are finally up to his college years. If I had to read one more story about his lunchtime antics in elementary school, I think I might have had to end it. There are only so many sandwich specifications a person can read about, you know?

Back to my birthday, and I’m not one of those it’s my birthday people, but I thought you should know, and I’m pretty excited about running the race on my actual birthday with my—Mark’s— dog. With Duke.

And I was overjoyed to get your email. It was such a nice surprise and perfect timing, given that my birthday is tomorrow. By the way, when is yours? I was worried, after I sent my I-choose-love email, that you were choosing pride, and that you were still bothered that I asked you a question. But I have been watching C-SPAN, and I had hoped that the drop in communication was because of that, and not anything you were feeling about or towards me.

Are you okay? It has been painful to watch, and you are experiencing that. Mark says it’s not as bad as what the media makes out, but I have a feeling that isn’t true. I don’t know where he is, but it’s somewhere in Afghanistan. He didn’t tell me where. I don’t think he will be over there as long as you, either. He said it was going to be a short tour and that was another reason why I was okay taking in Duke, because it wouldn’t be for a year or something.

In reference to your email, I want to hear everything and anything that you want to tell me, whether in person, or by email, or letter. I’ve regressed back to my email addiction and check it too many times a day. I just felt that you would write me back, and you did. And Matthew, my heart is a ball of nerves. I was so worried. Two months is a long time not to hear from someone. I know you can’t control it, but gosh…it was really hard. Honestly, if it hadn’t been for Duke, I’m not sure how I would have gotten through it without going a little nutty myself. But, good news is, I’m increasing my own stamina because of Duke. We are running a 5-miler race. I know it’s not a 10k, but still, that’s almost two more miles than I could handle before. Maybe when you get back, we can run together.

Of course, I would prefer we check out your stamina in other areas first. ;)

I’ve got to go, even though I don’t want to, but I’ve got to get Duke and I to the doggy hotel. Ha, that makes it sound like a hotel filled with dogs. It’s a Residence Inn, so I’m hoping it’s nicer than a kennel. But, I’m bringing my own pillow, just in case. I can’t help but admit that the idea of bed bugs really freaks me out. I hope you don’t encounter anything like that over there. Well, that’s probably the least of your worries. The idea of those little bugs coming out at night to suck your blood...Yuck!

Eep, I can’t end this on a bug note. Let me tell you something happy. I took your climbing equipment, and I went mountain climbing. Well, it was more like a hike. But still, it was more height than I’ve seen on my regular runs with Duke. I almost felt like you were with me. I did have your Ranger Watch on. I wasn’t sure if I’d hear from you again, but I took a picture of me on the mountain with your watch on. I’m attaching it for you.

With Love, Your Civilian Girl,

Vivian

Chapter Twenty

From:
[email protected]
Sent: 5/15/16 01:58
To:
[email protected]
Dear Civilian Girl,
Happy Belated Birthday. I’m sorry I missed
it. Next year, I’ll be there for it. I just got a chill thinking about it. Not
long now. Every morning, I wake up with a smile, because I am one day closer to
meeting you.
Let
me know when you get the birthday gift I sent. Preferably, send pictures of you
wearing it. There are few things more awkward than asking your gay brother to
buy lingerie for the girlfriend you have never met. Bear in mind, he has never
been with a woman, so Victoria’s Secret must have been an experience for him.
Thank God he is a good sport. He hasn’t given me any grief since the initial dating
manifesto. He knows this is legit. It is crazy, but it is legit.
Now, about Mark. I want to reach through the
computer and give you a shake. Actually, if I could reach through the computer, I
would want to kiss you, and touch you, and, well, you know everything I want to
do with you, or maybe not, I’m quite creative.
I have to take my hat off to the man, his
tenacity is pretty fricking impressive. And adaptable. You know, Rangers are
known for being able to adapt to any situation. His objective is clear. He wants you. He tried
scaring you, he tried just turning up, he has tried “just friends,” and now he
is inserting himself into your life. Complete ambush.
He reminds me of a guy I met at Ranger
School. He was thirty five, old to be starting out, I think, and he had tried to
pass six times, failing every time, but he didn’t give up. We were together for
the Florida phase. It is the last phase, and it is entirely in the swamps. It
was hell. Seriously, hell is not just a hot place, it is wet, with shit colored
water so thick you can’t even see the snakes and alligators until it is too
late. Hell is a swamp in Florida. I had
not taken my boots off for days. My socks were soaking. My feet were rotten,
completely infected. Every step felt like bayonets going through the soles of my feet. I kept
telling myself that they would eventually go numb, but they never did.
Anyway, the last day, the very last physical
test you have, is a fifteen-mile march to the gates of the base. Normally, this
would be nothing. I could run fifteen miles before breakfast, and then go out
for another fifteen. But I was in pain like I have never experienced before.
The infection was spreading up my ankles. I needed a doctor, but I was almost
there. So, anyway, I was walking, and I knew every step was ripping my feet open
further. And I was so tired, just exhausted. We average 2 hours of sleep a
night for nine weeks. On a side note, I've got the night shifts covered with
Dunwoody. As long as she manages two hours at a time, I’ll be a happy man.
Anyway, on top of being exhausted, I was
ravenous. You only get two MREs a day, so
you are always hungry. I lost 32 lbs. I didn’t have 32 lbs to lose. I had no
body fat left, and very little muscle. My body was broken.
So, this guy comes up behind me. And for a
brief moment, I thought, “I could just sit down, let a medic give me antibiotics,
and I could recycle this phase. Do it again, just like this guy. I could eat and
sleep for a month, and then try again.” But I don’t want to be that guy. I want
to be the guy who gets it right the first time.
This is the same situation. Mark is the guy
who keeps failing but keeps coming back. But here is the thing, there is only
one winner this time, and it is going to be me. I’m going to get it right the
first time. Yes, I have made mistakes with us, but I’m not quitting.
By
the way, I made it. In the end, I counted every step to keep from screaming. I
just kept walking, and counting, and I made it. I was in the hospital for three days on IV antibiotics. But it was worth
it. And this is worth it. Yes, it sucks not to be with you, but I will be if I
keep going, keep counting.
Mark will keep trying. He won’t stop,
Vivian, you have to see that. You asked me if I mind you writing to him. Yes.
Yes, I mind. He got to meet you first. He got to kiss you first. Letters are our
thing. He will have to try another tactic, maybe adopt an orphan and drop him
of on your doorstep to co-parent while he is away. He wants you in his life, and
he is inventing reasons to make it happen. But there is no room for Mark in our
relationship.
You want to know why he has the time to
write to you every day? He either works in the mess hall, or has a desk job. I
hope his chair is nice and comfy, so he doesn’t aggravate his hemorrhoids sitting on his ass all day. I write to you whenever I can. I know it’s not enough. But it will never be enough until I’m home with you, which will be soon, Civilian Girl.
I want to take you to San Francisco. Maybe next spring. I want you to myself for a
while, but I want you to meet Luke and Steven. They will love you. How could
they not? You have that effect on men, all men, even the gay ones, if Julian is
anything to go by.
Guess what? They’re going to have a baby. I
just found out. I’m so excited for them. I’m so happy that you would think it was my baby. Their surrogate miscarried last year, so this time, they didn’t say
anything until after the twenty-week ultrasound. She is perfect, ten fingers
and ten toes. I don’t know why I’m so excited, but it just feels like a new beginning
for everyone. Isn’t that what we all want sometimes, a fresh slate, to start again? I never thought Luke would be a dad, which
would be really sad, because he will be a great father. Steven will be too,
different than Luke, more effusive and energetic, but that is good. They balance
each other.
I’ve already told them I’ve called dibs on
the name Dunwoody. You’re welcome. I know you’d be gutted if you had to pick
something else. Your dedication to all things Army is really admirable,
Civilian Girl.
Happy Birthday, Vivian.
Love,
Matthew