Peering down at his bunk below me. Blake is sitting on his bed, slumped shoulders, head in hands, arms on knees. Something has gone down. I lean farther over the bed to see him. “What’s happened?”
He stares up, the anger has gone replaced by a dullness in his eyes. “I just got word Mark Nichols was out patrolling in Kandahar province today,” he visibly swallows, trying to bring his emotions under control, “and was blown up by an IED—gone just like that.”
“Fuck, Fuck, Fuck.” I drop back onto my bed, closing my eyes.
The pain of losing another friend bringing back the harsh reality of war. The danger we face each day.
I simply don’t have any words to say to Blake. How can you find words?
We only saw Mark last night. Sat across from him at dinner. Laughing and joking as we told stories of funny shit we have seen on patrols. God, I can’t believe it was his last dinner. I’m remembering he mentioned a wife back home in Dakota. Fuck. Blake is so right, this place is fucked up.
Blake gets up suddenly, saying he’s going to grab a shower. He bangs about getting his kit out of the metal cabinet at the end of the bunk and heads out.
It’s quiet again, and I’m lying back on my bed. But it’s different now. The last ten minutes have changed everything.
I’m thinking of Mark’s wife and family getting the news in Dakota. Will they be told what happened, or will they be given some sterilized version of the truth? It’s not fair on the families losing their loved ones so far from home.
My thoughts go to Cassie. I don’t want to do that to her. I’m not going to do that to her. I don’t want her wasting her life. Waiting for a letter to arrive, or worse to hear I’ve been shot or blown up.
She should be enjoying her life at college. Not hanging around waiting to hear from her absent boyfriend, who is on the other side of the world and who she hasn’t seen in more than six months.
She should be having fun, going to parties, making new friends. Meeting other more reliable guys. The thought of Cassie meeting another guy rips me apart. But I can’t be a selfish bastard. She needs to be set free so she can live her life, not my life.
I take out my pen and paper and start writing.
Dear Cassie,
Today life in Afghanistan feels so far removed from life in Florida. Everything is different. It makes thinking about you and home hard. My days are filled with training drills and patrols. All the things I've been trained to do. I don’t think you would recognize the person I’ve become.
I expect you’ve noticed the changes in me recently, particularly since I’ve been here. I guess we have both changed. Grownup.
I can’t imagine your life at college, in the same way you can’t imagine my life here. Our lives are heading in different directions. We have been moving apart slowly over the last year, but now I'm here it feels like our life in Florida no longer belongs to me. I don’t think this long-distance relationship is working anymore.
We had a lot of fun together back in high school. Exceptionally good times. But our time to be together has passed, come to an end. There's no going back to those times, only forward in a different way.
So, I wish you all the best for your future and happiness forever. I will never forget you.
Luke
Done. I put the letter in an envelope, seal it and address it quickly. I need to post this letter before I change my mind.
Telling myself this is the right thing to do, is not making it any easier. I need to shut myself off from my old life back in Florida and, as I said in the letter, move forward in a different way.
Chapter 9
Cassie
The Present
It’slateandI’mlying on my bed, unable to stop remembering back to my time with Luke. The dark night settles around me. The sounds of the city only faintly audible in our solidly built Manhattan apartment block.
With my head buzzing, I’m finding no peace in my normally comfortable bed, no matter how many deep breathing exercises I try doing. Since agreeing earlier to meet Luke, I can’t sleep.
Memories of us together. Happy memories. Sad memories.
All the memories over the years I've learned to bury deep and lock away in my heart, are rising up demanding I relive them in waves of flashbacks.
Memories of Luke’s strong arms around me. His lips touching mine softly, then urgently. His hands caressing me so gently, so lovingly bringing me to ecstasy. No man since has come close to making me feel the way Luke did. He was special not only because he was the first. Special because he was the best.
