Hey.
How many times did it start that way for us, just that one word? In person, on the phone, my house, your house. Anywhere. Even here. I so want to believe that you can hear me tonight. Somehow.
I'm lying here in the dark, and I can't sleep. That's a really good sign. At first, I slept a lot. I dreamed about you all the time. Sometimes I thought you were really here, beside me, stroking my face. You promised you wouldn't leave me, and you didn't. You don't know what that meant to me. Now that my head's clear again, those dreams don't happen so much. I kinda miss them ... still, I'm feeling a lot better. A hell of a lot better. I guess I don't have to tell you what that can do for a person's attitude, do I? Someday we'll have to swap war stories. You never did tell me much about what it was like for you after the shooting. Not your fault, though. It's not like I was there for you.
Sorry. Now I know what it means to have someone in your corner at a time like that.
Anyway, like I said, here I am lying in bed. They think I'm still real tired and I'm playing along, letting them believe I'm weak. That gives me an element of surprise when I'm ready to break out of here. The down side is that on nights like tonight I've got too much time on my hands after curfew. So I lie here and think of you. Pretend I'm talking to you.
Not that I've got much of anything fun to say, these days.
I look different, you know. I've lost weight, I've got a huge scar. And I still can't bear to think about Zack and Tinga. Nothing's ever hurt this much in my life. Nothing.
About the rest of my family. I've met a lot more of them here, and what can I say? If you thought Bennett's wedding was bad, you ought to come to Sunday dinner here. And I've got one or two cousins I'd just love to introduce to your ex-wife ... hey, I'm actually making myself smile!
It's either that or scream, because I hate this place. It's not just the prison thing, you know? I didn't realize, until I was here, that thanks to you I'm actually a little spoiled. I'm used to nice things now. What I wouldn't give now for just one glass of the wine I left unfinished, or just one of your "culinary miracles" I turned down like it was mess at the barracks. Now I've got mess at the barracks, and guess what? They don't cook with garlic here.
It's ugly here too. Butt-ugly. And everybody's got a bad attitude. Some days all I can do is close my eyes and fill up my senses with memories. I'm not like you, I don't write things down, but everything that's happened between us is written on my heart, so all I have to do is remember. It's easier at night. Curfew makes me think of all the blackouts. The way the lights would go out and all of a sudden it was dark.
The dark. The candles you used to light. Not a single candle here. That's one of the perks of a military installation. They never run out of power, or hot water either. It's only after curfew that those hateful flourescent lights go out and night comes.
You always looked good at night, you know. Everything about you shone in the candlelight, even your eyes lost their shadows and gave back the light ... will you listen to me, thinking all this sentimental crap? But I find myself getting that way, these days.
I don't even know where you are or what you think is happening. Funny, isn't it? I always gave you a hard time about getting out of the house and living a little bit, and now I hope like hell you're right where you've always been, sitting there in front of the window. Or at the computer. Eyes Only. I keep hoping that I'll catch one of your hacks, but I never do. Guess they've got you blocked out of here. I'd love to hear the sound of your voice.
In the beginning, when I was so sick and I didn't know what was happening, my mind went to some pretty scary places. Like, they got you that night too. That you were in a cell here too ... or worse. But then the bitch who runs this place made a mistake. I know she thought she'd bring me down, break my brand-new heart, when she started to rag me about what you were doing out there without me. But I've never been so relieved in my life.
Anyway, that night you were far away, back at the van. Safe. You know, for a while I had the idea you were there in the woods with me, after I was shot. But you couldn't have been. It's all those painkillers they gave me. They really mess you up, so I stopped swallowing them. I stashed them in case I get a chance to knock out a guard or two the easy way.
But what do you think happened to me? And Zack? Do you know that he is gone? Or that I'm still here?
You know what I keep thinking about? What it would have been like if Zack hadn't interrupted us that night. Where our little anniversary celebration would have gone. I still remember the pleasure as you finally held me, the soft touch of your lips on mine and the tickle of your scruff and the taste of of the kiss. The taste of you and champagne. One kiss, that's all it was. Yet I think about it over and over, so often I'm afraid I'll wear it out. But the magic never goes out of it. Oh, Logan, nothing gives me as much hope as the thought of someday having the chance to finish what we started that night.
But what's going to happen when I get out of here? I'm almost ready to try an escape. I learned my lesson that time I was in Langford. I won't even try to make it over the fence until I'm strong, and I think that's going to happen in a few more days, a week at the most. And then what?
I shouldn't let her do this to me, but the bitch has put some doubt in my mind. Not that I didn't have enough to feel guilty about in the first place ...
After all the nights I've thought about you I'm gonna feel like the planet's biggest idiot if I get back home and find out that you've gone on with your life -- without me. But why wouldn't you? We're all human. Or at least, you are ... what reason have I given you to wait for me? If you even know I'm alive.
I put my family first. I told myself I was doing it for us, but it was for me. And it's so much worse now, I'm afraid to tell you. I always knew I'd come to you with too much baggage, but I tried to pretend it wasn't true.
Besides, what was it between us, really? A year of working together, of being friends -- and one kiss. What guy waits around forever for a girl he's kissed one time when she's got the family from hell? Especially a guy like you. Even though you totally refuse to admit that anyone could be romantically interested in you any more -- thanks a lot, by the way -- I have a very clear idea of just how attractive you are. And it hasn't made this any easier. Maybe after I fight my out of here and back to you, it will finally and forever prove to you that it's not about you being able to walk. Not for me. You think I'd escape prison for just anybody?
Oh yeah ... speaking of just anybody ... once in a while, when I'm feeling extra sorry for myself, I worry that you've changed your mind about what happened right before the raid. I can feel my face burning right this second, thinking of what a stupid, idiotic, utterly dumb-ass thing it was to sleep with that pizza guy ..
No! I won't do this! I won't them win! There has to be a way I can be there for my family without giving up on you. No matter how long it takes, no matter what it takes, I will find that way. And I'm going to believe that it's what you want too.
That's right ... I'm just gonna calm down. You know how many times Cindy told me to stop feeling guilty about you? She'd be kicking some major ass right now if she heard this little pity party, or saw the tears running down my face and into my hair. She'd hand me a tissue and tell me to get over my bad self before the pillowcase gets all soggy.
I'm going to remember the good stuff. Like that poem you wrote about me. You made such a big deal out of that, it had to be important to you, right? I only remember the one line, but it's enough. "Forever eyes. Dark. Somebody's angel." I hope you're not taking that last bit too literally these days, thinking I'm hovering over Fogle Towers with a little halo or something. Because that night, when I read those words ... they say that being loved gives a person strength. And I felt strong that night, knowing ... well, not that we've ever used that word, love .. but after all these weeks alone here, I'm thinking it more and more.
So I'll tell you what I'm going to do. I'll lie here tonight thinking of how it's going to be the next time I see you. It'll start out like all those other times. You'll turn around and there I'll be. And you'll say hey, and I'll say hey. And then who knows? We'll start with another kiss and see where it goes from there.
Hey. I so hope you can hear this. Hey.
How many times did it start that way for us, just that one word? In person, on the phone, my house, your house. Anywhere. Even here. I so want to believe that you can hear me tonight. Somehow.
I'm lying here in the dark, and I can't sleep. That's a really good sign. At first, I slept a lot. I dreamed about you all the time. Sometimes I thought you were really here, beside me, stroking my face. You promised you wouldn't leave me, and you didn't. You don't know what that meant to me. Now that my head's clear again, those dreams don't happen so much. I kinda miss them ... still, I'm feeling a lot better. A hell of a lot better. I guess I don't have to tell you what that can do for a person's attitude, do I? Someday we'll have to swap war stories. You never did tell me much about what it was like for you after the shooting. Not your fault, though. It's not like I was there for you.
Sorry. Now I know what it means to have someone in your corner at a time like that.
Anyway, like I said, here I am lying in bed. They think I'm still real tired and I'm playing along, letting them believe I'm weak. That gives me an element of surprise when I'm ready to break out of here. The down side is that on nights like tonight I've got too much time on my hands after curfew. So I lie here and think of you. Pretend I'm talking to you.
Not that I've got much of anything fun to say, these days.
I look different, you know. I've lost weight, I've got a huge scar. And I still can't bear to think about Zack and Tinga. Nothing's ever hurt this much in my life. Nothing.
About the rest of my family. I've met a lot more of them here, and what can I say? If you thought Bennett's wedding was bad, you ought to come to Sunday dinner here. And I've got one or two cousins I'd just love to introduce to your ex-wife ... hey, I'm actually making myself smile!
It's either that or scream, because I hate this place. It's not just the prison thing, you know? I didn't realize, until I was here, that thanks to you I'm actually a little spoiled. I'm used to nice things now. What I wouldn't give now for just one glass of the wine I left unfinished, or just one of your "culinary miracles" I turned down like it was mess at the barracks. Now I've got mess at the barracks, and guess what? They don't cook with garlic here.
It's ugly here too. Butt-ugly. And everybody's got a bad attitude. Some days all I can do is close my eyes and fill up my senses with memories. I'm not like you, I don't write things down, but everything that's happened between us is written on my heart, so all I have to do is remember. It's easier at night. Curfew makes me think of all the blackouts. The way the lights would go out and all of a sudden it was dark.
The dark. The candles you used to light. Not a single candle here. That's one of the perks of a military installation. They never run out of power, or hot water either. It's only after curfew that those hateful flourescent lights go out and night comes.
You always looked good at night, you know. Everything about you shone in the candlelight, even your eyes lost their shadows and gave back the light ... will you listen to me, thinking all this sentimental crap? But I find myself getting that way, these days.
I don't even know where you are or what you think is happening. Funny, isn't it? I always gave you a hard time about getting out of the house and living a little bit, and now I hope like hell you're right where you've always been, sitting there in front of the window. Or at the computer. Eyes Only. I keep hoping that I'll catch one of your hacks, but I never do. Guess they've got you blocked out of here. I'd love to hear the sound of your voice.
In the beginning, when I was so sick and I didn't know what was happening, my mind went to some pretty scary places. Like, they got you that night too. That you were in a cell here too ... or worse. But then the bitch who runs this place made a mistake. I know she thought she'd bring me down, break my brand-new heart, when she started to rag me about what you were doing out there without me. But I've never been so relieved in my life.
Anyway, that night you were far away, back at the van. Safe. You know, for a while I had the idea you were there in the woods with me, after I was shot. But you couldn't have been. It's all those painkillers they gave me. They really mess you up, so I stopped swallowing them. I stashed them in case I get a chance to knock out a guard or two the easy way.
But what do you think happened to me? And Zack? Do you know that he is gone? Or that I'm still here?
You know what I keep thinking about? What it would have been like if Zack hadn't interrupted us that night. Where our little anniversary celebration would have gone. I still remember the pleasure as you finally held me, the soft touch of your lips on mine and the tickle of your scruff and the taste of of the kiss. The taste of you and champagne. One kiss, that's all it was. Yet I think about it over and over, so often I'm afraid I'll wear it out. But the magic never goes out of it. Oh, Logan, nothing gives me as much hope as the thought of someday having the chance to finish what we started that night.
But what's going to happen when I get out of here? I'm almost ready to try an escape. I learned my lesson that time I was in Langford. I won't even try to make it over the fence until I'm strong, and I think that's going to happen in a few more days, a week at the most. And then what?
I shouldn't let her do this to me, but the bitch has put some doubt in my mind. Not that I didn't have enough to feel guilty about in the first place ...
After all the nights I've thought about you I'm gonna feel like the planet's biggest idiot if I get back home and find out that you've gone on with your life -- without me. But why wouldn't you? We're all human. Or at least, you are ... what reason have I given you to wait for me? If you even know I'm alive.
I put my family first. I told myself I was doing it for us, but it was for me. And it's so much worse now, I'm afraid to tell you. I always knew I'd come to you with too much baggage, but I tried to pretend it wasn't true.
Besides, what was it between us, really? A year of working together, of being friends -- and one kiss. What guy waits around forever for a girl he's kissed one time when she's got the family from hell? Especially a guy like you. Even though you totally refuse to admit that anyone could be romantically interested in you any more -- thanks a lot, by the way -- I have a very clear idea of just how attractive you are. And it hasn't made this any easier. Maybe after I fight my out of here and back to you, it will finally and forever prove to you that it's not about you being able to walk. Not for me. You think I'd escape prison for just anybody?
Oh yeah ... speaking of just anybody ... once in a while, when I'm feeling extra sorry for myself, I worry that you've changed your mind about what happened right before the raid. I can feel my face burning right this second, thinking of what a stupid, idiotic, utterly dumb-ass thing it was to sleep with that pizza guy ..
No! I won't do this! I won't them win! There has to be a way I can be there for my family without giving up on you. No matter how long it takes, no matter what it takes, I will find that way. And I'm going to believe that it's what you want too.
That's right ... I'm just gonna calm down. You know how many times Cindy told me to stop feeling guilty about you? She'd be kicking some major ass right now if she heard this little pity party, or saw the tears running down my face and into my hair. She'd hand me a tissue and tell me to get over my bad self before the pillowcase gets all soggy.
I'm going to remember the good stuff. Like that poem you wrote about me. You made such a big deal out of that, it had to be important to you, right? I only remember the one line, but it's enough. "Forever eyes. Dark. Somebody's angel." I hope you're not taking that last bit too literally these days, thinking I'm hovering over Fogle Towers with a little halo or something. Because that night, when I read those words ... they say that being loved gives a person strength. And I felt strong that night, knowing ... well, not that we've ever used that word, love .. but after all these weeks alone here, I'm thinking it more and more.
So I'll tell you what I'm going to do. I'll lie here tonight thinking of how it's going to be the next time I see you. It'll start out like all those other times. You'll turn around and there I'll be. And you'll say hey, and I'll say hey. And then who knows? We'll start with another kiss and see where it goes from there.
Hey. I so hope you can hear this. Hey.