Piper to Alex (5)

Monday, June 30

Dear Alex,

How're you doing? I received your latest letter yesterday and am in the middle of three consecutive days of downtime so thought I should write back straight away while I have the opportunity. I have read and re-read your letter numerous times since yesterday and there are four particular parts I keep coming back to.

First: The photo.
I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but I wish you'd sent me two of them. I've spent the best part of the last twenty-four hours looking at that photo, I don't mind admitting it. If there were two of them, I could put one up in my bunk and keep the other one in my pocket, but as there's only one I'm having to swap between the two. It's already starting to look a little dog-eared. I'm a little disappointed with the sunglasses that are hiding your eyes, but I can picture them in my mind clearly enough. You have very striking eyes, I remember them well. I don't think you look "leprechaun-y" at all, I think you look… ah. Yeah, never mind.

Second: "babe"
The PPS in your letter made me laugh out loud, primarily because I hadn't even noticed that you'd called me that until your PPS drew my attention to it! I know I'm meant to be pretending it didn't happen and just moving on, but I'm not going to do that and there's not a thing you can do about it. I'm gonna focus right in on it and make you squirm. :) I think the reason I didn't notice it is because it didn't seem out of place. It seemed natural, somehow, but it does beg some follow-up questions. Is the word "babe" a colloquialism that you use for many of your acquaintances? Is it a term that you use for, say, the lady in the grocery store when she gives you your change? A quick "thanks babe" before you scoop up your shopping and leave. Is it a term you use for your friends? Is it a common moniker for Nicky, or Janae? Or is it a term of endearment? A name you give to people you're romantically involved with. I can't think of any other examples at the moment, so tell me… into which category do I fall, in order for you to bestow the name "babe" on me? :D

Third: "Now, anyway."
Well now. Out of an entire letter, these are two words that jumped right off the page at me. It's when you were talking about that connection, the inevitability thing and what you believe. You finished that with the words "now, anyway", as in 'I never used to believe in all of this stuff, but I do now'. So my question is, why? What's changed?
Shall I be honest with you? Shall I lay it all out there and tell you what I'm hoping the reason is for this? Or shall I say nothing and just keep on hoping? I think I'm gonna go for option two there. I may not have done, were it not for the fourth thing that caught my attention...

Finally: "heading out to dinner with an old friend"
Hmm. This is interesting to me, but I think most interesting was my reaction to reading it. I'll tell you, Alex, it was like taking a punch to the stomach, reading those words. The whole paragraph really. It made me question myself, and you, and what it is we're doing here. I mean, we're sending these letters frequently, getting to know each other, building on something that I thought we shared when we met just before I left. Yeah, there's been some flirting – from both sides – and I think some unspoken stuff has been happening too, unless I've totally misread this, but I don't think I have. Or I didn't, until I read that part of your letter. Now I just don't know. All I know is that when I read that part of your letter it upset me. I don't like admitting that to you, but I believe that no relationship – be it friendship or something more – deserves anything less than honesty. I know it's ridiculous, I have absolutely no justification for feeling this way. It isn't like we even have anything going on. Now that I stop and think about it, we've clarified MY relationship status – hopelessly single – but we haven't clarified yours. I even know that your best friend is married, but I don't know about you. So I suppose I should be clarifying that, although even as I'm writing this, I think I know the answer because you really don't strike me as somebody who would enter into…

Fuck.

What am I even doing? I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm telling myself to shut up now. I'm doing the over-thinking thing that Polly has lectured me about for years.

Look, Alex. Here's the thing. I read that part of your letter and what I felt was jealousy. The thought of you reconnecting with someone who could potentially be an ex made me feel even further away from you than I actually am and really made me aware of how helpless I am to do anything about it. Because if I were there, I would want to do something about it. I would.

Going back to the photo thing? Beautiful. That was it. That was the word that finished the sentence that I didn't finish at the start of this letter. I don't think you look "leprechaun-y" at all, I think you look beautiful. Like, take my breath away beautiful. As I'm writing this letter, I have that photo propped up on the desk in front of me and it's painful, that's the truth of it, it's painful to be able to see you and not actually be there with you. I want to see you, to speak with you, to hear your voice and to tell you all of this in person, instead of spilling ink onto a page and hoping you get it. Hoping you understand what I'm saying and not saying and… ugh.

It's so bleak here, Al. It's unbearably hot and it's drab and everything is the same colour and dismal. It's all so joyless, that's the thing. There's a complete lack of joy here, there's a hopeless monotony. I spend my working hours trying to fix young men, a large proportion of whom will be forever broken. Sometimes we don't fix them at all and it's all so sad and soul destroying and never ending. Then in the midst of all of this gloom, there's you, Alex. You're the one bright spot in my life and I almost feel bad for bringing you into this desolate place.

I receive a letter from you and it's like your light permeates the darkness of this place. It gives me back a little bit of hope, it's a reminder that there is still beauty – and oh, what beauty – in this world and it's just outside these canvas and concrete walls. It's a plane journey away. It's so close and it's so real and hopefully, maybe, possibly it's attainable. Soon. One day.

Then I read that you're going out to dinner with an old friend, somebody you used to be close to, somebody you've recently reached out to. It's a big deal and you want it to go well and all I can think – selfishly, I know – is that I want to go out to dinner with you, I don't want you reconnecting with an ex, I want you to look forward and not back and I want you to see a future that hopefully, maybe, possibly has me in it.

But I'm here, in "South Dakota", seven thousand miles away and there's not a damn thing I can do about it. I have made sacrifices for this job, to serve my country, and I have never once felt resentment about that. It's an honour to serve, it's been my mission in life to do this and I have never regretted anything about it. Not once. But this, now, this is my regret. I regret that I'm not there to tell you all of this in person and I regret that I can't do anything to show you how much of an impact you've had on my life in just three short months and I regret that I can't do anything to stop you reconnecting with her because I'm here, and even as I'm writing this, I'm aware that you wrote to me almost two weeks ago so I'm talking about stopping something that's already happened.

Fuck. Again.

I'm going to go take a shower. Then I'm going to come back and I'm going to do one of two things. I'm either going to burn this letter and start afresh or I'm going to stuff it into an envelope and post you something real and honest.

Hey. Again.

So, ready for a dash of real and honest?

I'm sorry, Al. I'm having a rough day. Sometimes downtime isn't such a good thing as it gives me time to think and sometimes thinking isn't a good thing, because the shitstorm I've been dealing with is easy to deal with when you have no other option, when you don't have time to stop and reflect, you just have to deal. Reflecting brings things into focus that I'd rather remain blurred. I'm tired of seeing flag-draped boxes carrying home kids we weren't good enough for. That's the bottom line.

Sometimes, I just really, really need a hug.

I hope I haven't offended you with my unbalanced rambling in this letter. If I have, I genuinely and sincerely apologise. Can you cut me some slack? The circus isn't fun at the moment and it's taking its toll.

I still do really want you to write soon. I also hope your dinner with your friend went well.

Love,
Piper
x