Letters for Muscles
February 20
My Dearest Muscles,
I thought today would be better. I can’t even begin to describe the roller coaster of emotions it’s been for the last night. It’s hard to sleep without you. I’m sad, nervous, scared, confused, and so many other things. I broke down a few times last night. I’m so fortunate that Noah’s really come around. He’s like my shoulder to cry on. Quite unexpected on his end.
Now that it’s morning, I’m able to put some thoughts together. I’m trying to work on staying connected to you. It’s especially important to me because I’ve realized that I push people away when things aren’t running smoothly. The way I deal with separation is to separate myself further. Not the greatest idea. I’ve just been avoiding people today. I want to keep to myself.
I guess letting others know how I feel makes me feel sad and helpless. I cried a few times to Noah, but I pulled myself together. I didn’t want to, but I had to. The Brotherhood is my priority, and success is important. I can’t let them see me cry.
It’s been four days since you got on that plane into the unknown… the unkown scares the hell out of me. I don’t even know where you are. I don’t know exactly where you’ve been. I don’t know if you’re safe. I don’t know where you lay your head to rest for the evening. It kills me. I don’t know what you’re forced to see and hear.
You’ve been traveling this whole time, if I remember correctly. I can’t imagine the stress. I don’t know how you do it day in and day out.
I know I’ve got an important role here now, and I didn’t quite appreciate it until you left. I almost felt unimportant because you handled things just fine here. You always did. You always assured me that I contributed more than I thought, that I was important, and that my presence here counted for more than I knew. I get it now. I’m taking care of so many things. Making sure all the roles are filled.
It’s four days, and I’m still terrified. I know you’re good at your job. I believe you. I trust you’ll do well, and I know you comrades will do the same.
Noah insists on throwing a party to commemorate Winston Churchill abolishing identity cards in 1952 tomorrow. Apparently, he “set the people free.” Sounds like rubbish to me, but it gives me something to do so I’ll play nice. They’re bringing food, music, decorations. It makes me wish I had an address to send you things. Maybe we can celebrate when you come home, even though I think this made-up holiday is ridiculous.
Another day down, one day closer to seeing you.
I’m sorry this is so out of sorts. My train of thought’s been shoddy, since sleep is hard to come by anymore. I hope I’ll start making a little more sense soon.
Yours Lovingly,
Blondie
I thought today would be better. I can’t even begin to describe the roller coaster of emotions it’s been for the last night. It’s hard to sleep without you. I’m sad, nervous, scared, confused, and so many other things. I broke down a few times last night. I’m so fortunate that Noah’s really come around. He’s like my shoulder to cry on. Quite unexpected on his end.
Now that it’s morning, I’m able to put some thoughts together. I’m trying to work on staying connected to you. It’s especially important to me because I’ve realized that I push people away when things aren’t running smoothly. The way I deal with separation is to separate myself further. Not the greatest idea. I’ve just been avoiding people today. I want to keep to myself.
I guess letting others know how I feel makes me feel sad and helpless. I cried a few times to Noah, but I pulled myself together. I didn’t want to, but I had to. The Brotherhood is my priority, and success is important. I can’t let them see me cry.
It’s been four days since you got on that plane into the unknown… the unkown scares the hell out of me. I don’t even know where you are. I don’t know exactly where you’ve been. I don’t know if you’re safe. I don’t know where you lay your head to rest for the evening. It kills me. I don’t know what you’re forced to see and hear.
You’ve been traveling this whole time, if I remember correctly. I can’t imagine the stress. I don’t know how you do it day in and day out.
I know I’ve got an important role here now, and I didn’t quite appreciate it until you left. I almost felt unimportant because you handled things just fine here. You always did. You always assured me that I contributed more than I thought, that I was important, and that my presence here counted for more than I knew. I get it now. I’m taking care of so many things. Making sure all the roles are filled.
It’s four days, and I’m still terrified. I know you’re good at your job. I believe you. I trust you’ll do well, and I know you comrades will do the same.
Noah insists on throwing a party to commemorate Winston Churchill abolishing identity cards in 1952 tomorrow. Apparently, he “set the people free.” Sounds like rubbish to me, but it gives me something to do so I’ll play nice. They’re bringing food, music, decorations. It makes me wish I had an address to send you things. Maybe we can celebrate when you come home, even though I think this made-up holiday is ridiculous.
Another day down, one day closer to seeing you.
I’m sorry this is so out of sorts. My train of thought’s been shoddy, since sleep is hard to come by anymore. I hope I’ll start making a little more sense soon.
Yours Lovingly,
Blondie