October sometime, 2019
My dearest Lover,
I miss the mountains. I miss the cool breeze that sways in between the trees. The tree’s hymns are together along with the wind. I miss sitting next to a stream as the chill from the mountain water eases my weathered face.
I had to write you. I’ve traveled from island to island trying to understand a way off of them. There are seven different islands surrounding each other, in a circle formation. I’ve figured out how to build my own fishing gear. I’ve figured out how to survive alone. I wasn’t expecting to be away this long, from you. I’ve not seen any other human in eight months, although I’m not sure if my judgement of time is correct. All I know is it’s dragging. At night when the islands sing to me songs of remembrance of you, I sit by my fire watching the most awe inspiring star light show, they spell your name often. I’ve had more coconut water and meat I’ve forgotten how it tastes. I’ve fished. I’ve caught fish. I’ve ate fish. I still have the fifteen suitcases and the industrial case. I’m almost through all the supplies from the industrial case. The suitcases have played a large roll in the making of my boat.
It’s funny I’m here. Alone. Away from you, when we always said we’d be together. And now we’re on different islands. The one I’m on just happens to be in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. I hope you’ll, one day, get this letter. I only have a few more pieces of paper left. I wanted to tell you though, one day we’ll be together again, in one way or another. I can feel it. I can feel it especially when I’m at the tallest peak of these islands overlooking the world I’m confined to. And it is then I miss your tender touch, my lover. I miss your smile. I miss your strong sense of comedy. I miss your hair in between my fingers. Your sweet scent. I’m miss your soft skin. I sometimes hallucinate I see a boat coming my direction as I hope I’ll be on my way to see you.
When our boat capsized, I didn’t know until the hull of it was being flooded with water we were in trouble. Once I came to my senses I was on a beach being knocked around by the the ocean waves. My beard is full now. I don’t think you’d like it much though.
I had a dream I was sitting in your old room in Redlands. I was sitting in a chair infrint of your mirror. I had a towel wrapped around my shoulders as you cut my beard with scissors. You gently put shaving cream on my face. You were gliding a razor over my face. You looked at me every so often and smiled. You’d say to me, “I’m not that good at this.” and I kept telling you you were doing fine. I watched you, which felt like hours, moving around me with your pleasant aura. You’d touch me with you hands placing them on my face like how a butterfly lands. The last thing i can remember was your smile and laugh. When I woke, I hated I was here. I hated the beauty that surrounded me.
Now, I’m sitting on a large rock over looking the most beautiful ocean blue I’ve ever seen. I’m writing this to you. I’m writing, everyday to you. Yesterday I found one of the messages I set out, months ago. I heard the bottle along some smaller rocks as they fist fought each other.
I don’t know what’s happening. Is the war over? Is the world still on fire? Do we still have a country to call home? Did we win the fight? Are you safe?
I close my eyes often and think of you in a safe place, with your family. I can see you having a margarita. I can see the sun setting all over your skin. Soon, I’ll find you in some small town in Mexico when all this is over. We’ll have a margarita together, and eat some fish tacos. I love you. I’ll be thinking about you, my lover.
I’ll keep trying. I will not give up.
POST SCRIPT: Say hello to your family for me.
To read more on this story, read Letters From People You Love here on my blog.
That is the first letter Soldier sent to Lover…
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