Letters for Muscles
February 19
My Dearest Muscles,
I think it’s finally beginning to sink in that you’re gone. When I woke up today, I felt sad and lonely. I don’t want to get stuck in a rut, and I certainly don’t want it look like I’m sitting here feeling sorry for yourself. I know I have to be strong for the rest of the group—they need a leader. Noah’s doing alright, but you know how he is with people (abysmal is the first word that comes to mind). I’ve been trying so hard to hide my emotions and pretend this doesn’t phase me. They must think I’m the strongest woman alive, but I must’ve forgotten to put my cape on today. I just feel very lonely.
I wish I could at least text you and tell you how I’m feeling. I need somebody to talk to, Muscles. Somebody to tell me everything’s going to be fine, that it’s okay to be scared. That you’ll be okay. I don’t want to think about what could happen. I continue to tell myself that in a few weeks, you’ll be returning safe and sound.
I watch the news as much I can, in case they mention you. They keep telling stories about men who come home almost completely different people. I can’t imagine what you have to go through out there. I know you’ve only told me the edited version of your stories, only because things were so horrific that you don’t want me to share the same horror that you’ve been through.
This is taking more mental preparation than anything I’ve ever done. My peace comes in knowing that you’re a damn good soldier, and you know how to do your job better than anyone. I don’t underestimate your abilities, and I’m not just saying that because you’re my husband. I truly believe with every fiber of my being that you’re the best of the best.
I keep remembering the day you left me. I don’t want to cry. I want to be strong. I cry at night, so nobody sees me. I hate that I cry. My heart is slowly breaking every day that you’re gone. I keep reminding myself that you won’t be away for long, but the time isn’t what matters. When you left, half of me went missing. Emotionally, spiritually, physically. I can feel in my bones that half of me isn’t there.
You make me proud every day, Muscles. Your drive and dedication is what keeps me motivated back home. I support you one million percent, no matter what the plan is, no questions asked.
I know it’s okay to cry. Being away from somebody I love so much is never easy, but I have to remember that every day passing is one day closer to seeing your beautiful face again. I’m going to pull myself out of this slump and try to enjoy the day.
Yours Lovingly,
Blondie
I think it’s finally beginning to sink in that you’re gone. When I woke up today, I felt sad and lonely. I don’t want to get stuck in a rut, and I certainly don’t want it look like I’m sitting here feeling sorry for yourself. I know I have to be strong for the rest of the group—they need a leader. Noah’s doing alright, but you know how he is with people (abysmal is the first word that comes to mind). I’ve been trying so hard to hide my emotions and pretend this doesn’t phase me. They must think I’m the strongest woman alive, but I must’ve forgotten to put my cape on today. I just feel very lonely.
I wish I could at least text you and tell you how I’m feeling. I need somebody to talk to, Muscles. Somebody to tell me everything’s going to be fine, that it’s okay to be scared. That you’ll be okay. I don’t want to think about what could happen. I continue to tell myself that in a few weeks, you’ll be returning safe and sound.
I watch the news as much I can, in case they mention you. They keep telling stories about men who come home almost completely different people. I can’t imagine what you have to go through out there. I know you’ve only told me the edited version of your stories, only because things were so horrific that you don’t want me to share the same horror that you’ve been through.
This is taking more mental preparation than anything I’ve ever done. My peace comes in knowing that you’re a damn good soldier, and you know how to do your job better than anyone. I don’t underestimate your abilities, and I’m not just saying that because you’re my husband. I truly believe with every fiber of my being that you’re the best of the best.
I keep remembering the day you left me. I don’t want to cry. I want to be strong. I cry at night, so nobody sees me. I hate that I cry. My heart is slowly breaking every day that you’re gone. I keep reminding myself that you won’t be away for long, but the time isn’t what matters. When you left, half of me went missing. Emotionally, spiritually, physically. I can feel in my bones that half of me isn’t there.
You make me proud every day, Muscles. Your drive and dedication is what keeps me motivated back home. I support you one million percent, no matter what the plan is, no questions asked.
I know it’s okay to cry. Being away from somebody I love so much is never easy, but I have to remember that every day passing is one day closer to seeing your beautiful face again. I’m going to pull myself out of this slump and try to enjoy the day.
Yours Lovingly,
Blondie