S,
Sorry I haven’t written you in a while. To be honest, it’s not because I’ve been too busy to write (I have been busy, but never in my life have I been too busy to keep in touch with friends), it’s been because I wasn’t sure if you’d like me to write, or even what to write about. I know you must be getting tired of my routine (pop up once or twice a year to write you some crazy emotional nonsense) and you’re probably equally tired of me apologizing for it. Can’t teach an old dog new tricks, I suppose.
It’s almost 1 AM where I am right now (which is Biloxi MS, by the way, on Keesler Air Force Base) and I have to be up at 5 AM for physical training and to get ready for the rest of my day. I wouldn’t even be writing you right now if it weren’t for my certifiably insane and suicidally depressed roommate (who is getting kicked out of the Marine Corps in a few weeks) – you see, his cell phone keeps going off while he’s texting whoever matters to him and I can’t get any sleep like that. I was up thinking about you anyway, thinking of a possible letter to write, and after his cell phone went off for the fourth or fifth time, I decided that I wouldn’t be able to write this tomorrow (as I’d have forgotten most of the good parts or how I wanted to say them).
I’ve just been mixed up lately, and not sure who to talk to. I, honestly, don’t have anyone I trust with my feelings these days, and I’ve never had anyone in my life I’ve ever trusted more than you, so it only makes sense that I think of you when things are rough for me. Of course, I very rarely get a chance to talk to or with you, let alone know what you think about me, but that doesn’t stop me. I know I’ve told you before, but I’m pretty sure I think about you on a daily basis. Not in any kind of fanciful way, mind you – it’s not like I sit here and think about running off with you or meeting up with you and other such nonsense. I just often find myself reflecting on how good of a friend you were and how much of a great help that was for me, and how I miss that. Is that really such a bad thing? I guess it’s kind of silly, isn’t it? It’s been, what, 7 years since we met…and 5 since the last time we really had a good sit down chat with each other? Correct me if I’m wrong, my memory is very crappy. Just ask my brother. Some of the time I just wonder if you think about me (probably not, but I could be wrong!) and if you do, what are you thinking about me? Does she think I’m crazy and annoying and stupid? I wouldn’t blame you. (Just so you know, I still think of you much the same way as I always have: strong, compassionate, grounded, beautiful.)
He’s having a kid, by the way. He got drunk (surprise!) and got an 18 year old girl pregnant (he’s going to be 28 this year). He wants to name it after me (what an honor!) and he wants me to be the godfather (how wonderful!).
I remember the last time you wrote me, and you mentioned how Tyler still keeps in touch with you, and you don’t even know why. Heh. That part stuck out to me, and I wondered, does she feel that way about me? I sure hope not! Of course, it’s impossible to tell, and I’m not very…forceful(?), I guess you could say. I think I wrote you back, and when no reply came, I just did what I always do: nothing. I figure, if people want to talk to me, they will get in touch with me.
I don’t talk to people very often.
I don’t mean to guilt trip you or make you feel sorry or anything like that, either, so please don’t be thinking that way. Like I said, I’m just all mixed up and don’t know who to talk to. If I were a normal person, I’d have a friend I could talk to right now instead of bothering you! Heck, I wish I did. And if I am bugging you, do let me know. I’ll leave you alone, I promise, Marine’s honor! The last thing I’d want to do is bother you any more than I already have. I am capable of getting by on my own (I’ve been doing it for a while) – but some part of me always hopes that you still think I’m an interesting and worthwhile person, and some part of me always hopes that you want to talk to me, even a fraction as much as I like talking to you.
One thing I always loved about you was the way you wouldn’t just pity me or just be one of those “yes-friends.” You didn’t just sit there and support everything I did and think I was great and all that. Sometimes you’d downright tell me I was stupid and needed to get my shit together, even though that’s not what I wanted to hear… and damn it, you were right! You were always great for that. I haven’t met anyone else in my entire life that had whatever it takes to tell me that. Guess it must take a bit of balls – most people say I intimidate them. I think that’s kind of funny – don’t you?
I don’t have much specific to say – I could go on and on and on about my feelings and all that nonsense, but, seeing as how your reception to that is unknown, I want to keep this a bit brief. I know, it’s long already, but brief for me, I guess, right? I hope you’re not too angry with me for not writing you sooner or more often. I hope you don’t think I’m dishonest when I say I want to write you. I’m just…afraid to. Afraid of being rejected, I guess. Which is stupid, of course! By being afraid of rejection and afraid to try, that’s just the same as getting rejected! And hopefully you can be honest enough to tell me if you’re tired of my antics, because I can just leave you alone if you wish. If you want me to write you once a month, I can do that too! Or once a week, or every day. Well, maybe every day. Some days are busier than others in the Marine Corps.
I’m gonna get to bed and send this in the morning. You know, it was helpful to even just write some of this down. Maybe I should just…keep a journal? Heh. I hope [letter left unfinished].
– PFC Durden (the only name I hear anymore) Or, you can still call me J (it’d be kind of nice, actually…haven’t heard it in a while!)
In Search of Truth 