March 12th, 2013
Dear Alex,
I wanted to wait a while and get settled in before I wrote to you. I didn't want the first letter you received to be boring, uninteresting. And I'm glad I waited. I have a lot to tell you. Hopefully you won't get too sick of my story before I finish, hah.
Anyway, my first day here was great. I hate to say it, but it's been amazing to be back with the guys. I miss you a lot, I really do. I fall asleep thinking of you and you're the first thing I think about when I wake up. Being with the guys, being busy with patrols - it keeps my mind off you at times. But I still think of you even when I'm out on the streets of Fallujah. It reminds me of you, in a way. It's a damaged city, full of sorrow and struggle in some places. Yet the city and its inhabitants always find a way to rebuild themselves. They're strong like you.
I was in the city just the other day with a few of the other men in my group. We and a few other Marines were helping rebuild a mosque. There are dozens of mosques around here and yet the people keep rebuilding and rebuilding. I suppose religion is a good thing. Sometimes it's the only thing that gets us through life when we've lost all hope. It keeps us from going off the deep end. Anyway, we've gotten to know some locals. They're all nice, curious about us and where we come from. Of course, a lot of us are wary to reveal too much. We can't give the people here our complete trust. We have loved ones back home - you, for example - that we don't want to put in danger, so we give vague answers, but satisfying enough.
On the other hand, as wonderful as it is here sometimes, it's also dangerous. Well, obviously. Not everyone welcomes us, as you can imagine. We encounter hostiles every other time we go out. Some of the guys are nervous, especially the new ones or the ones who now have families. Like Toby. His wife just had their first child and he wasn't there for the birth. He was never afraid before, but now he is. He doesn't want to die. He wants to see his kid, watch him walk, grow up. I don't blame him, so I watch his back as best I can and I've promised to get him back home. We carry extra weapons, just to be careful. I have a knife and a gun and so do most of the other guys.
When we're not out in the city socializing or helping rebuild mosques, we stay inside the compound and just hang out. We've turned part of our section into a bar of sorts. We managed to find someone who'd supply us with American beer and other alcohol. One of the guys in my group works part-time as a construction worker for his wife's brother-in-law, so he and one other guy, Charlie, designed a pool table. Finished it in less than a week. We've done our best to make ourselves feel at home, but on occasion it gets to us. Being this far away from our loved ones.
I miss you. I hope you miss me. I'll write soon, let you know what's going on now and then. I can't be too specific. Don't want to say too much and get into trouble with my superiors.
Love,
Sean
March 20th, 2013
Dear Sean,
I'm glad you're doing all right. I won't lie, when I didn't receive any word from you for about a week and a half, I began to worry. I keep reminding myself it takes a while for the mail to get to either of us. I hate the wait, always biting my nails and giving myself unwarranted anxiety attacks. I guess I'm just a mess, like you so eloquently described in your letter.
I've been trying to be strong for you, I have. I haven't gone to Nikita much, though. She's so busy with Michael that I don't want to give her any more troubles than she already has. I talk to Birkhoff, though. And on occasion Sonya. They listen. Sonya gives me good advice while Birkhoff is a smartass, as usual, but in the end he comes out sounding like Yoda and I always appreciate what he has to say.
I sort of envy you being so close with your comrades. It sounds like you have a lot of fun. I wish I could be there with you. I won't bother to say I wish you were here with me. I know I can't change that. I won't lie, I'm still a little bitter but I'm getting past that. I just miss you more than ever. It's weird, not having you around all the time. I wake up every morning and reach over to your side of the bed, expecting to find you there. I'd get a dog to keep my company, but you know that'd never work out what with being Division.
What exactly are the people like? The ones that you've all befriended while helping rebuild the mosque? And do you any of you go to the mosques or have found a church to go to? Well, that's a stupid question, I guess. I'm sure there's a chapel in your compound. There usually is, isn't there?
I'm sorry for such trivial talk. I just - I'm not good with talking about myself or even my feelings. You know that better than anyone. Every time I do try to explain my feelings what I say is always so negative. But know this - I do miss you. More than you think.
I've spent a couple days writing this letter, just so I have a little more to tell you. I went on a mission with Nikita the other day. It was fun, if you can believe that. I mean, it's been so long since it's been just the two of us. I've missed missions like that, us girls, you know? I've missed Nikita. I feel like, even though you're hundreds of thousands of miles away you're still closer to me than when Nikita is standing right next to me. I know she's burdened. I'm trying not to sound selfish, but I crave her attention? I must sound like a child right now as you read this.
I'll write to you again soon. Hopefully I'll have more to tell you next time I write. To be honest, I find your letters more interesting, so I'd rather read all about you, talk all about you. I want to know more about this part of your life, the SEALs.
I miss you and think of you all the time…
Love,
Alex