April 25th, 1942
Dean,
This house is really quite without you in it. I'm so used to hearing you move around and blare your music that the slie silence is almost deafening- if that makes any sense. I think I'm going to buy some records this weekend just so there's some noise going.
I keep your door open now; and moved your shoes and jacket into the back of the closet. It's really stupid but that way I can imagine that you're just out; on a date, working long hours, doing...something, and just haven't come back yet. It's… it's stupid. But you know how I get alone… and I can't do that again. I promised you I wouldn't- so until Sam get's here..
I'm dying to know how training is going. I heard boot camp is hell and the regimens were nothing to laugh about. Some of the guys who came back from their 'tour' (that's what this is called, yes? I'm not very fluent with "military speak") said it was more grueling than the war itself. That can only be a good thing, right? And hey, at least this is going to take care of the softness to your stomach that you are so self conscious about. (You really shouldn't be, I think it's) You'll have to tell me about it when you get back- I'm curious to learn a few knew stretching techniques.
I hope you are doing well- I know you go overseas in a month. Get as much training as you can. (Be as ready as you can possibly) No point in wasting the opportunity given to you.
See you soon, Dean. I'm sure even I can make better food then whatever they're attempting to serve you.
1074 more days
