The Letter

Dear John,

It has been over a year since we said goodbye at Fort Benning, Georgia. I'll never forget how proud I was to be there for you, standing next to your Mom and Dad. Watching you walk up to your Commanding Officer and exchanging salutes. You were the most handsome man I ever knew in my entire life. I don't remember who cried more, your Mom or me.

I know you said that because we had only been dating for six months that it was too soon to get engaged, even though you knew you would love me forever. I swear, if you had asked me then, I'd of said yes and ran right off to a Justice of the Peace, or the Company Chaplain and married you right on the spot. But you were the one that said it wouldn't be fair, because you were so certain that you would be sent off to Afghanistan or Iraq or some other hot spot in the world.

It was your idea that, only if we wanted to, we could see other people. I swear John for this past year the thought of ever seeing anyone else never entered my mind. Every night in my dreams I can still see your lips moving, saying those words over and over again, " It isn't fair, it isn't fair."

Those words were playing in my mind when your Mom called this past weekend. She told me you got hurt. You were the only member of your squad to survive one of those IED things. Your Mom and I started to cry over the phone. When we hung up I could hardly see through my tears. I jumped into my car --determined to drive all the way to Indiana to be with your folks, but I stopped when I almost hit a little girl waiting for the school bus at the corner. All I kept saying to myself was. "It isn't fair, It isn't fair." I just couldn't do it. I was too upset to make a drive like that. I turned around. Went home, went to bed, and cried myself to sleep.

And again last night, I didn't get to sleep till after five in the morning. The next thing I knew the phone rang about eight am, and it was your Mom again. She said you were in a hospital in Germany. She said you would be home in about three or four weeks.

She told me about your legs. The Doctors told her you were depressed and that you weren't talking to anyone on the phone, not even her. She was getting all her information from the hospitals communications officer.

John, I know you are depressed, you have the right to be. I know, it isn't fair. But I also know I love you, and your Mother and I are flying to Germany next week. I hope you read this letter before that. I love you more than anything, and I will always be there for you.

All my love.

Jenny