DATE 13SEP10, TIME 1535
When is the last time you knocked on someone’s front door? When is the last time you heard someone’s voice over the phone? When you’re down below the surface of the ocean looking out a digital window the size of a computer monitor, this is what you think of. I was watching a movie today and a guy walks up to a door and knocks. His brother answers, they laugh, and are happy to see each other.
Being on a submarine is like walking up to someone’s door and not having enough, enough of something, something I can’t put into words. They see you through the peephole. Waiting for you to knock, but you can’t. Your words are lost in the space between you. You don’t know where to begin; you don’t know how to bridge that gap that has been created since your last encounter. These are the things I am afraid of. Will I be able to engage in a conversation with you the way I once did? Will I completely forget how to talk to you? It has been so long since I touched you, since I looked into your eyes. I am doing my duty to my country, the one I volunteered to serve, yet I can’t stop thinking of the regret I have for doing this.
By completing my contract I may be pulling away from you. I am in another world, one you will never be able to understand, or comprehend. You will never be able to fully grasp the way I think while I am down here, just as I won’t be able to feel how you do while I’m gone. We are living two completely separate lives right now.
Our marriage is on hold, and all we can do is hope that the time we have spent together has made us strong enough to last. I know you are all I think about. I have a picture of you I laminated, one because I read that book by Nicholas Sparks, and two because I found the picture after I read it.
I was going through some stuff I found in my locker and I found that bible I got from Uncle Clay and I was using the picture of us kissing the day we got married as a bookmark. I laminated it and I carry it in my chest pocket always.
Love you, forever and always, love babe.