"COLLINS, MAIL!" Sergeant Sheffield yelled as he tossed Nick a bundle of envelopes. Nick sat upright from his position on his bunk. He'd finished basic and was now in Afghanistan on his first tour. Defending what, he had no clue, but he had an address and a bed and other than Andy that was really all that mattered. He thumbed through the letters noting once again that they were the letters he'd written Andy. He did as he said and wrote to her every single day, sometimes-simple lines, and sometimes many pages reminding her how much he missed her and realizing how much he actually hated being away. Every letter came back; red ink scribbled the words 'Return To Sender' on each envelope. He'd been gone three months, and 63 letters lay in a box under his bunk. He stared blankly at them as he sifted through the box wondering what changed, was she really mad enough that he was gone that she severed ties completely? "Why?" he spoke softly to himself as he pulled a photo of the two of them from the box and folded it putting it in his vest pocket. He'd tried calling the house but the phone never picked up, her cell phone proved unresponsive as well.

Several hours later Nick found himself back in his bunk after spending the better part of the day on the front lines defending camp from a group of insurgents that decided their base was a good place to target. He was covered in sweat, blood and dirt and despite how weathered his body was he sat at his small desk and pulled out a piece of paper.

Andy,

I don't really know where to begin. We were attacked tonight, bullets everywhere, and Andy it was so loud. I couldn't hear anything. We lost two guys and I can still see their faces and the blood, there was so much blood. I held Teniman's hand while he was dying and the look on his face. He kept telling me to tell his wife how much he loved her and I… I just can't get his voice out of my head. I can't stop seeing the life leave his eyes and I can't stop picturing his wife getting that knock on her door. I don't know why I left and I just miss you, I miss us. I miss you kicking my ass at pool after I got off work and I miss the smell of your shampoo and how you feel in my arms and I…I really don't know what else I can say to get you answer me. Just know I'm not going to stop writing. I promised I'd write everyday and I will.

Andy McNally you're my sanity, you're my escape from this dangerous place I'm in and I love you.

-Nick

Nick stared at the paper as he realized he still had his fellow soldier's blood still on his hand and it had transferred to the paper. His eyes filled with tears as he let the events of the night sink in. The weight building on his shoulder finally broke and he felt the moisture flood his eyes. The situation in Kandahar was getting more deadly as the weeks passed. One lone tear stained the page. He blinked through the tears and set his pen down. He'd accepted death, never feared it but every time he tried to move past the new found cloud that hovered over him he saw Andy's face, standing at a nameless plot with a single marker and it terrified him. Writing to her, jotting down memories from when they were kids, happy times helped get through the nights and function. Nick folded the letter and slid it in an envelope; he addressed it and tucked it into his vest pocket.

Pulling out another sheet of paper he started writing to his sergeant's new widow. He wanted to express to her how he hadn't been alone when he passed and how much he loved her and how he kissed the picture of him and his wife before they went out on patrol every evening. He wanted her to have good memories of her husband, before he realized it he'd filled two pages of goofy stories of the sergeant and a slight smile crept over his face. He got up and grabbed another envelope, folding the letter he put it with his letter to Andy and sat on his bed. He pulled out the picture of him and Andy he kept with him and slid it under his pillow. He finally succumbed to the weight of the day and fell asleep for the first time in months.