Dear Soldier Boy

by Maxwell Tibor

  Matthew, you keep saying you aren’t the man you were before or the man you want to be. Guess what? I’m not the woman I want to be. I wish I was better every day. I do. I wake up in the morning, and despite my bedhead, (which by the way that is a real thing, I should put my hair in a ponytail at night but I always forget and wake up looking…well bed head), anyway despite my appearance, I look at myself in the mirror and I try to find something in my mind that makes me a good person. I do. I want to be. I want to be a good person. And some days I don’t feel like one.

  But back to you. I’m sure you don’t want to read a bunch of “I’m good enough” etc. mantra that I recite in front of the mirror, and no I don’t say it out loud, it’s just a thought and maybe it’s fleeting. Anyway, I’ll take whatever version of you that I can have. I don’t care. I just want you.

  There’s something about you and always has been. Even before you wrote back, I had this feeling, this connection. And I know that sounds crazy, and you are probably questioning my sanity, but it’s true. I just felt it, and I still do. I feel so connected to you, this amazing man whom I haven’t even laid eyes on. Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t think I would recognize you in person. The photo of you on the mountain is too far, and the one of you by the tank, you’ve got your gear on, and sunglasses, and the sun is too bright. But I don’t want to see what you look like, not yet. I don’t want a photo of you. I want the first time for us to see each other to be this grand moment. I want you to whisk me in your arms because you’ll know it’s me. You’ve already seen plenty of me, which, by the way, I’m attaching the photo of me in the lingerie. Though, I did feel a bit weird having Luke’s name on the address form.

  I love that you’re not messy. I’m not super tidy, but my house is pretty well in order. I’m attaching a photo of my living room so you can see where we’ll watch a zillion romantic comedies and sad movies. I love sad movies. I even prep myself for them. I have my bottle of wine, because I love wine, and I don’t want to mention this again, but I never shared wine or watched movies with him. Just for the record.

  Anyway, I have wine and a big box of Kleenexes. I sit there and bawl, and it’s ugly. You might want to leave when I watch a sad movie. I don’t know why I do it, but I do. I guess it’s therapeutic. I just let the tears roll.

  Can I cook? Matthew, you do realize I’m Italian, right? What kind of Italian woman would I be if I didn’t cook? I can’t even believe you asked me that. Anyway, yes, I can cook, and I want to cook with you, too. Because, there will be times where I might be sick, and chicken stuffed with cheese is not going to cut it. You have to at least be able to make me some chicken noodle soup and not the kind from a can. Yuck!

  Speaking of food, I have a sweet tooth. It’s really bad, like go-to-meetings bad. When I’m feeling down—which isn’t too much, don’t worry, I’m not mopey—I make caramels. Because I have no self-control, I eat all of them in one sitting. Which, by the way, I ate all of the chocolates you sent me on Valentine’s Day, on site. This is why they were not included in the roses pictures I sent you. Can you believe that? I really have a problem. Please don’t give me chocolates again unless you are going to be here to help me burn off all the calories.

  I had to increase my mile count to counteract my indulgence, but a marathon, Matthew? I haven’t made it to a 10k; we need to be realistic about things. Besides, I’ve looked up marathon training, because I wanted to see what you went through, and how you did it, and there is no way that I can accomplish that!

  All that time spent running? No, thanks. I want to spend that time indoors with you working on a different marathon. Let’s make miles and of endurance in bed (or not in bed). I’ve only thought about you in my kitchen, bathtub, living room, dining room…the list goes on. We don’t have to stick to the bedroom. I have thick curtains and walls.

  You never mentioned your birthday. I feel horrible that I missed it. But also, you never mentioned how old you were. Matthew, you’re an old man. I don’t know if this can work. I said I was edging up on thirty, but that was somewhat of a joke. I’ve just turned twenty-five, and you are already over thirty? I don’t know, that’s a huge age gap. Can this even work? Is it even possible for you to run a marathon? Was that like, ten years ago or something?

  I’m not sure if I should send you the lingerie picture. You might have a heart attack or something. Can your body even take it? Now I feel bad for teasing you so much. I wish I would have known, because I would have considered your health.

  No, I can’t attach that photo. It would do you in. You’ve already run out of lotion, and that was a HUGE bottle. (Insert that’s what she said joke).

  Do you even know what the lingerie looks like? Can I describe it to you without you blowing a vein or something? And Matthew, there isn’t really much to describe. The fabric, if you can even call it that, is lacking, to say the least. A string lines my waist, with a small piece of blue satin that meets right above my thighs. The top is sheer and mixed with thicker lace that really doesn’t leave much to the imagination. Are you imagining it, Matthew? Are you thinking about what I look like in this lace teddy? That’s what’s called, by the way. A lace teddy. The center of the top is connected by three ribbon ties, and I’ve thought about you taking them off with your teeth. Is that something you would do, Matthew? Would you use your mouth to pull the ribbons open, or would you use your hands? I want to know. I can’t wait to know. But that’s all for now. I’m not going to attach the photo, Soldier Boy, because I want you to use your mind to think about it. You know, the mind is a powerful thing, and I’m guessing yours can do a really good “job” without having a tangible photo of me. I wouldn’t want this email to be intercepted by anyone and have my photo seen by anyone else. Because I’m all yours Matthew, every inch of me.

  With Love, Your Civilian Girl,

  Vivian

  P.S. I promise I’m not cruel. I sent you a care package. I hope you enjoy. XX

  Care Package 4

  Dear Matthew, June 25th

  I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself with the email, and I really wouldn’t want anyone to see my photo, especially not in lingerie. The roses photo led you to believe one thing with the placement, but lingerie is completely different. There is no wondering, it’s just there all of me, and I want that to be only for you. I’m even worried sending this to you. But, I put the photo in a sealed envelope, so I hope no one else opens it before it gets to you.

  I was embarrassed to have the photos developed, so I bought a photo printer. Then, it would really just be a photo from me to you. I hope you enjoy. I took a few different angles so you wouldn’t have to imagine this time. I wanted you to give you a view of me, all of me. In lingerie—you'll have to wait for in person for the nudes.

  I can’t wait to see you in person…like, really can’t wait.

  Along with the photos, I’m enclosing several bottles of lotion. I don’t want you to run out again. Some more chaps sticks. I want your lips to be ready for me. Because I have this feeling that they will be on me for a long time, and I don’t want them to be chapped. It’s like I’m prepping you for a marathon. And I am, Matthew. I want you to be ready for a marathon of lovemaking with me.

  I’m including another piece of the puzzle. You haven’t guessed what or where it is. I’ll give you a hint. It’s a game. My favorite one. I can’t wait to play with you. It will be fun.

  And a jar of Nutella. I can’t wait to lick some of it off you. I hope you won’t mind?

  You mentioned 97 items on your list of things you wanted to do to me. I’ve included a copy of the Kama Sutra and tagged some of the pages of the things I want to do with you.

  With Love. Your Civilian Girl,

  Vivian

  Chapter 26

  From: Matthew.Jensen7267@us.army.mil

  Sent: 7/3/16 22:02

  To: Vivian.Castello@gmail.com

  Dear Civilian Girl,

  Looks like Luke and Steven aren’t the only o
nes expanding their family; we are the proud parents of a fur baby. Congratulations to us! Of course I don’t want you to get rid of Duke. It’s not Duke’s fault that Mark is an asshole.

  I love dogs. My only concern is your seventeen cats. Are they feeling displaced by their new canine brother? Adding a new baby is hard on any family, but your girls are a pretty tight bunch. How are they going to deal with me? Will there be room for all of us in your house? I’m not a small man. Between the cats, and the Barbies, and our boy Duke, that is a whole lot going on.

  Your house is small and cute, just like you. I’ve never owned my own place. I have saved enough for a down payment, but I don’t know where I want to buy. Do you love DC? Would you choose to live there if it weren’t for your job? Is that where you see yourself long-term? You know why I’m asking. It might seem premature to talk about, but we should plan. I plan everything. You want spontaneous, you’re going to need to find another soldier. Besides, I won’t fit in your house, and Duke needs a yard. Think of our four-legged child.

  You have no idea how happy you made me when you told me you can cook. And just when I thought you couldn’t get any hotter. Woman, you are the full package. How are you still single? No wait, you’re not. It's settled, you’re on dinner duty (except Thursdays, which will be chicken á la Matthew night, you're going to love it), and I’ll take cleanup. I will take your kitchen to new levels of clean.

  Of course you are teasing me and refusing to send a picture, you wouldn’t be you if you weren’t contrary. You could just send me a picture and make me a happy man, but no. Are all girlfriends this much like hard work? Or did I just get lucky?

  But seriously, I look forward to the package. While we are on the topic of care packages, could you please send some baby wipes? I know it's a weird request, but the dust here is horrific. There is a dry, red haze everywhere, and at the end of the day, I’m covered. Well, my face is. That is the only part of my body exposed during the day. The rest of me is well-protected by 100 lbs of body armor and weapons. I used to hate the strain on my back from carrying my pack day after day, mile after mile, but now, I just think I’m in training for carrying all 350 lbs of my Civilian Girl. I am ready for you. I never have to remind myself to put on my groin protector anymore, by the way. I’m keeping the family jewels intact for you (you’re welcome), even though my ass goes numb and I’m almost certainly cooking my testicles, which is preferable to having them blown off. I don’t know if you’re still checking your weather app, actually wait, yes, I do. But your app won’t tell you the temp inside an armored vehicle. Yesterday, it was 122 F. Imagine how fun that is. Remember when I was complaining about frostbite and my frozen balls? I miss those days. I’m an old man, as you have so kindly pointed out. I can’t handle this heat anymore.

  I still have no idea what the third picture you sent is. Twister? If so you are not allowed to play the naked variety with anyone else but me. I’m going to need some more clues. And what do you mean, you wouldn’t recognize me? How many 6'4" guys with blond buzz cuts do you know, woman? Seriously, look on Steven’s Facebook already. I think there is even one of me in my dress uniform. Not going to lie, I scrub up pretty good. On a scale from one to Vivian, I can pull off a solid seven. No, wait, don’t look. If you decide you’re not actually into me, you still have almost five months to make your excuses. My best bet is to do this blind and get you into bed straight away. After that, you’ll be sold. I’m very goal orientated; I always get the job done. Yep, no pictures. Don’t even look at my face until we’ve had a good few hours in bed. And I hear you saying, “But I’ll see you if we’re in bed.” Not to worry, I have that covered; you’ll just be seeing a lot of the top of my head between your thighs. Now, can you see why I attached a picture of just the top of my head? Get used to that view, Civilian Girl. It is a nice head though, right? Great head of hair for an old man.

  And on that note, I’m off to bed. Say goodnight to our son. Daddy loves you, Duke.

  Love,

  Soldier Boy

  P.S. Almost forgot. Still celibate. I feel we should create a tally sheet. This is a long time to go without sex. Should we commemorate it somehow?

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Vivian.castello@gmail.com Sent 7/4/16

  Matthew.Jensen7267@us.army..mil

  Dear Soldier Boy,

  Happy 4th! Did you enjoy a glorious firework display in Afghanistan in celebration of America? Haha! I probably shouldn’t joke about any type of fire in the air etc., given your current situation. Did you do anything fun?

  I went down to the mall with Duke. He makes for a great companion/man repellant, that and the tank top you sent me. I have to say, I was a bit disappointed not to be hit on. Not that I’m looking, but last year, I had been asked out by at least ten different guys throughout the day, and this year, zip. Zilch. Nada. I guess all the weight gain is a real turn-off. That and I decided to go with a buzz cut like you. I’m really into the idea of being twinsies, what do you think? Twin outfits, twin buzz cuts, twin undies? Haha, just kidding. I’m attaching a pic of me and Duke in front of the Washington Monument. By the way, I’ve told Duke all about you, and every time I say your name, he wags his tail. I can’t wait for the two of you to meet. The three of us can go running together. I’m going to guess that, since you are getting up there in your years, I’ll be the fastest. Maybe we should have a fun game of chase before we make it to the bedroom?

  I felt a little bit like Fivel in American Tale when I was looking at the sky tonight. But the fireworks were really pretty, and I imagine next year, you’ll be with me as we watch them. Then we’ll go back to our house and make even bigger fireworks. And no, Duke is not allowed in the bed. I sleep alone until you return, and then I want to sleep on top of you and stare down at your face while you breathe. Will that make you uncomfortable? Haha!

  And there are no c words! None. But I have added to my cabbage patch collection. I found a soldier one, and now the mini-version of me is stuck to him like glue. I keep trying to explain to them about level of appropriateness, but that doll is so into the soldier, she can’t keep her hands off him.

  I do love DC. I love the four season weather, and the cherry blossoms in the spring, the snow in the winter, the changing leaves in the fall, and the hot summers. Which, by the way, it is hot. I’ve been tempted to prance around with no clothes on but…maybe I have. I guess you won’t know until you get here. November 27th is coming up quick, and good thing too, because it’ll be more fun to see you have to work with all the layers I wear. Like cardigans, scarves, and Afghans. I get so cold, I’m a walking blanket. How will you overcome making it through all my layers? Soldier Boy, can you handle that? Especially given your age?

  But back to DC, I never would have thought I would feel this way, but I really don’t care where we live, as long as I’m with you. Matthew, I’ve really fallen hard. I hope you don’t ever let me go. I never thought about Duke needing a yard. I run with him every morning and night. But maybe you’re right. Where would you want to live?

  I love that you want to clean the kitchen, because I’m not a fan. Maybe I can buy you sexy cleaning attire. Since you already have the soldier outfit, we won’t need to acquire one for cos-play. But I’m thinking maybe I’ll need to get a nurse one now, since you’re telling me about all this dust and heat. I think you’re going to need some major TLC when you come back, and believe me, I intend to give it to you.

  Besides your chicken & cheese dish, what’s your favorite meal? I want to have it ready for when you get back. I’m assuming we won’t want to leave the house for a few days, so I will stock up on supplies and nourishment.

  Matthew, why are you trying to wreck my self-control by wooing me with the idea of a photo of you in dress uniform? I’m trying to save my eyes for seeing you in person. All 6'4" of you.

  Now, on to the topic of your head. By the way, it’s a really nice head. I like how big it is. (You know what goes here). And I’m looking forward to experiencing you
r skills. Really looking forward to it. It has been a long time, Matthew. Commemorate no sex? Obviously there is only one option for that: sex. Lots of sex. I might not be as experienced as you, but I do have some really nice images in my mind about you, and me, and everything that entails. Which is a lot. Do you have any other ideas for a means of commemoration?

  Since you were so kind to strum up that mental picture of you between my thighs, I thought I would send you a couple more photos from after the fireworks. Remember, it’s hot here too. Not like 122 F, but hot. So hot that, when I got home, I locked the door and went straight to my bedroom. I’ve got a really nice size garden tub with jets, and they are powerful. I’m not sure if it will fit you, but anyway, I took off my jean shorts and decided to leave your tank top on. I was in a hurry, from being outside all day long, and I just needed to get wet. Really wet. You know the shirt I’m talking about right? The one that reads, “Waiting for My Soldier”, except I didn’t wait today. I thought about you while I took a bath, and it got hotter than it is outside. I took a couple before and after photos for you. The first one is of me in the tank; I was so hot that I jumped in the bath and it got wet. I thought you wouldn’t mind. And the second photo is after I thought about you and was enjoying the bubbles.

  Night night.

  With Love, Your Civilian Girl,

  Vivian

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  From: Matthew.Jensen7267@us.army.mil