Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 74256 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74256 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
“I got one too.” Erik holds up his envelope.
My voice is thick when I reply. “Our wives—they’re something else.”
“I’m glad they have each other while we’re gone.”
“Yeah,” I agree.
“I think I’ll take a walk to read mine.”
I think I reply, but I can’t be sure. Instead, I block out every single thing around me, except for the letter I’m holding in my hands. Carefully, I open the envelope and pull out the white sheet of paper and start to read.
Chad,
You’re not gone yet, and I already miss you. Tomorrow is our wedding day, and I wasn’t sure if I’d find the time to write this, so here I am. I’m sitting in our hotel room, and I have so much I want to say but can’t seem to find the words.
When you asked me to come and see you, I never could have imagined that we’d end up being married, and you being deployed, all within a matter of two weeks. It’s almost scary how fast life can change, and plans can be derailed.
Although, I admit, I’m not mad about this derailment. I’ve accepted my dream job, and it’s just a few short months. Okay, well, half a year at most, and you’ll be home.
I can do that.
My plan is to throw myself into my work so that maybe I won’t miss you as bad. It sounds good when I say it in my head, but reading it as I’m writing it, I know that nothing will keep me from missing you. Nothing except for you being here with me.
I guess I should warn you to expect a lot of letters. I want you to have as much of home with you while you're away as I can. I want you to feel like you’re here with me.
I want to feel like you’re here with me.
Please know that I’ll miss you every second of every day.
Come home safe. Come home to me.
I can’t wait to marry you tomorrow.
Always,
Faith
My hands clutch the letter as if it were her. I’m not ready to let her go just yet, so I read the letter twice more, before folding it neatly, and placing it back in the envelope. I check the reception on my cell phone and there’s nothing in this tent. I hope there is somewhere here where I can get a signal to call her. If not, looks like I’ll be in the common tent with everyone else trying to connect with their families. Digging inside my bag, I find my notebook and envelopes and immediately write her back.
My wife,
I hate that I had to leave you so soon. I regret that we didn’t have more time together. I miss you too. So much, in fact, I can feel the ache in my chest. Thank you for your letter. Holding it felt as though you were here with me. It was almost as if you were giving me one final hug.
I keep seeing images of you this morning when you woke up in my arms. Your hair was a mess, and you didn’t have a speck of makeup on, and all I could think about was how beautiful you were. How lucky I am to call you mine. I am you know, I’m the luckiest man on the planet. I’ll never forget what it was like to wake up with you in my arms, knowing you were my wife.
I miss you so damn much.
We made it to where we’re going. It’s hot as hell, and nothing but sand for miles. I’ll reach out to you every chance I get. If I go silent for a few days, know that I’m always thinking of you. I don’t know how good the reception is here. From the looks of where we are, it’s not real promising.
Mail runs once a week, so if my letters are delayed, you’ll know why.
I need to unpack, but I had to reply to your letter first. Finding that letter in my bag was exactly what I needed. Married for a day, and you’re already taking care of me. Is this what I have to look forward to for the next sixty years?
All of my love,
Chad
I read over my words and hesitate when I get to the last paragraph, but I decide to go with it. I won’t tell her how I really feel in a letter. I won’t do that unless I think there is a chance I won’t make it back home to her. However, I’m not going to hold back either. I need her heart just as invested as mine.
I need her to be mine for more than just this deployment. A lifetime with Faith won’t be long enough. Folding the paper, I stuff the envelope and address it with the one she sent me, anxious to get it in the mail. It’s still hard for me to believe that I get to call her mine.