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 7th
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.
Point number seven: the hint. Verificare? Is that verify in Italian? What would I need to verify? That you are killing me?
Just tell me one thing: is your partner the guy in the tux? You know, from the picture with you in the red dress that makes me think ungentlemanly things? Yeah, that one.
Ok, well, I better sign off before I go off-script. I've covered everything on my list. You've seen what happens when I get off-topic.
Great, now I'm thinking about you in your colossal bed. And things were going so well. I was being a gentleman, and I hadn’t mentioned cannibalism in at least a page. Oh well.
Good night, Civilian Girl.
Love,
Soldier Boy
Oh! I almost forgot. I put in two more pictures,
just so you know I am not grossly deformed. The first one was taken on my last tour. I was on the Pakistani border. The lighting isn’t great, but that is me in front of the tank. The second picture is Luke and I when I was three, I think. Luke was two. And yes, my dad gave us buzz cuts as soon as we had hair. I'm not even sure why I have the picture on my phone, but now you can see what Patton will probably look like. And Dunwoody is a great name. Let’s face it, my daughter will be able to shut down any haters. She will probably be about your size at birth. Let me apologize in advance for the size of our babies. Yeah, that is going to be rough. But you are strong, and anesthesia has come on a long way since women were biting on sticks to muffle the screams. But still…I’m sorry.
Chapter Nine
[email protected] Sent 1/20/15
[email protected]
Dear Soldier Boy,
First of all, I’m so happy that the toppings made their way to your stomach. And I’m glad that you shared your insatiable appetite with me. Now, I know our honeymoon location will need to be close to civilization so that you do not eat me, per your cannibalistic nature.
Ha, yes, I have seen Goonies. Such a great movie. Goonies Forever! I love those rocks in the water. When I was in Spain, I saw similar rock structures. It made me think of Goonies and the possibility of this special place filled with treasure. I bet you get that same feeling when you look out at the sand dunes in Afghanistan.
Wow, 6'4" that is really tall. Your legs must be really long too. I bet that’s why you enjoy climbing and giving them such a work out? I’m almost embarrassed to say how tall I am. No, my friends are not Amazonians, they are just average height. I’m 5'3". Well, technically I’m 5'2-½", but I’m a smidge above the halfway point, so I think it makes sense to round up.
The guy in the tux is my boyfriend. Ha! Just kidding, that’s Julian. He is my go-to date. He has been since high school. Yes, he’s good looking, tall, successful, and funny. But he has never laid a hand on me. I’m not sure if he’s gay, asexual, or just not into me, but anyway. Whenever either of us has some sort of wedding or function requiring a plus one, we call each other. Our parents have tried the whole why-don't-you-two-get-married business, but we just laugh it off and exit the room. Like I said, he’s never mentioned anything sexual to me, so I figure if he wants to share something with me when he’s ready, then he will.
Tempting to hear your voice. So very tempting, Matthew, but I think I’m going to have some self-control. I feel like it wouldn’t be the same to hear you on a recording. Or, maybe it’s because I’m not sure if I’m ready, or if I would prefer hearing it in real life, like when you’re whispering in my ear as we dance our first dance. ;) Or maybe when you say “I Do,” though, I would hope that I would get to hear it prior to that. Haha!
By the way, my voice is kind of like Fran Drescher. Haha, just kidding. It’s not. Maybe, I’ll get one of those stuffed animals where you can record your voice and send it to you. This would probably go over real well in your tent? Are you in a tent? What’s your nighttime ritual like? For me, I adjust all of my Barbies into their sleeping positions and make sure to turn on the nightlights in each socket. They are also Barbies by the way. One is Skipper, one is Malibu Barbie, and the other is Ken. Haha, just kidding. I don’t have any Barbies. Well, not anymore. I do have one Barbie in a Vera Wang wedding dress in my parent’s attic. I’ll have to get that out so she can sit on the altar and watch as we swap our vows. We’ll put a GI Joe next to her so she can finally have her happily ever after. She really deserves her special moment, especially given all those years living in the attic. But she can’t outshine me, no matter how much better she looks in her wedding dress.
Yikes, I shouldn’t have been so silly about the Barbies. Especially since—now I’m hiding under the covers as I write this to you—I haven’t seen any of the Diehard movies. Ack! Don’t hate me.
Ultra-Marathon?!?!?!?! I can’t even imagine. Wow, that is incredible. And makes me realize you must have a lot of stamina. Which makes this girl really happy. ;)
I’ve never tried spinning. I work out at our gym at work, but I prefer to run outside. I’ve considered getting my own weight collection. Do you know how many times I’m interrupted so that someone can show me a better way to hold my hands or lower the bar? Seriously, it’s like double time with weightlifting, which is probably another reason I hate it so much. Even with my headphones in, people have no problem interrupting me. It’s not like I put a sign next to my station saying, “Hey everyone, I’m clueless, please assist.”
Do you have weights? Or do you just do like, a zillion push-ups a day?
Thanks about my Christmas. I’m sorry I vented. I’ve never shared any of that with anyone, not even Millie and Liz. And yet, it felt so right and comfortable to share with you. Afterwards, I realized it was really insensitive to moan about my Christmas, so I’m sorry.
Haha, yes, I did avoid pronouns about my partner. Which is not easy. Even now, I almost typed the gender to say something, but then I realized I have to refer to my partner as my partner, and that will help to avoid the gender situation. Speaking of my partner…they messed up big. I’m tied to the report because we are partners, but it’s bad. I tend to avoid all news because it’s depressing, but my boss has been bringing in the stacks of newspapers and waving them around at us. He’s really upset, and he should be.
Now, on to your photos. Even with a buzz cut, you were a cute baby. This is good, as we need to have cute kids, especially for Dunwoody’s sake and that name. And now you’re mentioning how large they are going to be and labor? Right before I go to bed. It’s after midnight here. I got home from work just after eleven. Happy Wednesday, am I right? ;)
Since, I don’t want to think about large babies and birthing situations before I fall asleep, I’m going to look at your other photo. I’ve never been one of those “I love a man in uniform” people, but, wow…I guess I’m a changed woman. You’ve converted me, Soldier Boy. I’ll take one more “glance” at your photo, and then I’ll think about how much you like to work out, and your stamina, and I’m going to call it a night in my colossal size bed.
Oh, and I sleep nude. I hope that’s okay with you?
Night night,
Vivian
Chapter Ten
From: [email protected]
Sent: 1/20/16 22:59
To: [email protected]
Dear Civilian Girl,
Guess what came in the mail today? My testicles, thank you. Honestly woman, I do my best to keep it G-rated with you, and then you send me things to put on my balls. You’re killing me. I will be needing a remedy for blue balls next. Though, I see you covered that with the bottle of unscented lotion. According to the bottle, it is suitable for even the most sensitive areas. I will have to get back to you on that one. At the moment, I am bedding down with fifty other men. No alone time, so no need of lotion. But I thank you in advance, because we both know I will be thinking of you when I do get to use it.
Here is the thing, Vivian. I am incredibly attracted to you, like insanely so. It defies reason how into you I am. This makes no sense. Yes, you are beautiful, but we haven’t even met. And we never will.
It's my turn to feel remorseful and apologize for saying something I shouldn’t have. I really like what we have going on between us. Reading your letters is my favorite time of the day. I carry them with me and read them more often than I am willing to admit. Every day I get excited when the mail comes, because there is a chance there will be a letter from you. And the chime of my email is, quite literally, my favorite sound. It's like a drug; I get this hit every time you write to me, and I love it. I can admit that. It's what gets me through the day.
I know we joke about meeting in real life and making something of this, but we can’t. And no, it isn’t because of my job, though that is not ideal. Even in a perfect world, we would only see each other when I am on leave.
Even if I were stationed Sta
teside, this wouldn’t work, and it kind of pisses me off. No, strike that; it really pisses me off. You are exactly the woman I want. I can’t even say “kind of woman I want,” because I have never met anyone else like you. There is nobody else like you. You are outrageous, and funny, and so incredibly sexy, and somehow, you find my attempts at humor funny.
So, what is the problem? I mean, I want you, and you miraculously seem to tolerate me. Well, I am the problem. I didn’t want to tell you this, but I have been going through some stuff for the last few months. Basically, our timing is shit. If I had gotten your letter last year, shit, I don’t even want to think about it. Things would be different. God, they would be different.
You never asked me how I got your letter. Anyone could have gotten it. Why was I rifling through Dear Soldier letters? The shrink told me I should. Apparently, it is a way to stay grounded and in touch with the real world. This should have you running a mile in the opposite direction, the fact that I am seeing a shrink, the fact I need something to tether me to reality. Geez, I never wanted to tell you any of this.
But you deserve to know that I am not just jerking you around. Something happened. There was an incident—that is what we are calling it. Now, I’m probably scaring you. You probably think I'm a real whack job. God, it is nothing like that. Or maybe it is. Shit, it is war. That's what it is. Things happen. Mistakes. Shit.
If you’re still reading this, I’m sorry. I'm sorry for swearing. I’m sorry for jerking you around. I’m sorry for making you think that something could actually happen between us.
Dear Soldier Boy Page 4