Whoever This May Concern

Dear whoever this may concern,

I'm not quite sure who that is, if anyone even cares or if I am writing to God. I don't even know if 4 am is late or early, all I know is I was tired of trying to argue myself to sleep. So I found myself here, on my porch with a pen and paper, wishing for the first time that I had a journal. Actually, that's a lie I wish I was sleeping. I wish that my husband would come home and I wish that my kids didn't have to celebrate another holiday without him. I'm not sure who I hate more, the military for taking my husband, my husband for being a damn hero, or myself for marrying his crazy ass in the first place. Maybe this will make it to a woman who is on the verge of marrying a soldier, and not just any soldier. The good kind, the brave of heart, the selfless one who just so happens to know how to get down on the dance floor after a few shots of tequila and one cheesy pick-up line. God, I miss him. I miss his smile and I miss his touch and the way his laugh makes my toes tingle. I miss watching him play with Trevor and letting Ally put barrettes all in his hair. I miss the way he calls me darling. 

I would tell her to do it, ya know the girl who's about to spend the majority of her life alone in a house praying to God to watch over her lover. I like to think that I am strong in faith seeing how I have done this for years but late at night when the thoughts start creeping in the question of whether or not He is listening lingers in the air as you try to catch your breath from crying so hard. 

I would tell her to stand in front of God and everyone she loves in that beautiful dress and tell that soldier, I do. Even though there will be some nights she’s up at 4 am hating him. Why? Because one night you wake up next to him just looking at you and when you ask him why he’s so weird, he'll smile and tell you, 'because you’re so beautiful' and then you'll make hot sweet love in the moonlight and it'll be worth it. 

35 days left. Trevor reminds me every night to change the number and Ally makes sure we light a candle every morning and pray that Daddy makes it home okay. I hate that they have to live like this. I hate that sometimes it's just me sitting in the stands cheering Trevor on, the only one yelling for him during the game. The only one to yell at Ally for peeing on the floor again, stupid potty training. I mean seriously it’s like she thinks it’s funny. I hate that I am alone in this, maybe that's why I'm up. I'm lonely. I am so damn lonely, I can't take it, my mind won't shut up about how damn lonely I am and here I am at 4 am writing. Wow, am I a baby if I say my wrist hurts. I am lonely, tired, and now my hand is cramping, who knew feelings could cause so many problems. Who knew loving a man who would gladly die for his country would be so hard and who knew that 4 am journaling would somehow ease the ache in this breaking heart of mine. Who knew that I would be advising some girl somewhere to marry a man who will leave her feeling more alone than she ever has. That the war between men will leave you reading through every email hoping that it wasn't him and feeling awful that you’re relieved it was some other woman's husband. Maybe I should burn this letter when I'm done so no one will know that I secretly cry in the shower just to try and feel better.  Or that sometimes I look through our wedding album and sob praying that he comes back to me. 

These days I don't even know who I am or what I like. But I know that I want my husband. I haven't been touched in 156 days (I am definitely burning this letter by the way). I have dreams about the way it will feel when he touches me, it’s always the same with passion. So loving and caring, truly showing his heart to me. I love him and how he can make me feel that way. I wish it was one of those dreams tonight and not the one where it's my 7th Thanksgivings without a husband. I guess I can dream about Christmas, maybe dream about a surprise homecoming, those have happened a few times throughout the years, him showing up at the door with flowers and that goofy grin of his. How did I get so lucky? How did we get so lucky is what I really mean? This kind of love doesn’t come easy. We have had some dark times, but we have this hold on for dear life love, it is pure. I know this much.

 I guess I feel better now. I mean my heart kind of feels like it is smiling. I can’t believe I have never thought of this before. I have found the person I am writing too. I think I have started a new tradition. My dear sweet husband. This letter along with what I am sure will be many will find you the day you decide that your country will be okay without you, whenever that may be. I support you and I believe that America is lucky to have such a fine soldier. I am proud my window sticker says so. I hope that this opens up the part of your heart that tells you that I am the best person to take care of the job at home. Providing you with the comfort to leave behind any regret. I hope that these help you with your transition at home when you finally see how much you have missed. I hope you start to question whether you did the right thing and I pray you know that in my heart, I believe that you did. The world needs people like you, God needs people like you, and I will never hold it against you. I like this idea of being raw with you, though the idea that you get to see me at the worst and know that it’s just the thought of you that gets me through another day. I cannot wait to have you home and to hear the word darling spill out of your mouth as you whisper it in my ear while pleasing me (oh yeah I’m going to get dirty just for you baby), I can’t wait to have breakfasts as a family every morning and I can’t wait until our children get to experience the greatness of their father, so that way they too will understand all the years you were gone. I pray that you know you are loved.

Sincerely,

Your longing wife.