Dear Soldier Boy Read Free Page A

and then followed up by immediately saying or doing exactly what you say you shouldn’t. I’m smiling again, remembering. You said it a lot. I feel like I should use an emoticon here so you can see I really am smiling, but I also feel you'll start questioning my gender again if I do. Manly emoticons, add that to our list of inventions. We are going to revolutionize the way people use social media. Check us out, between this and your clandestine military adjacent/civilian contractor job, I think world domination is inevitable.

While we are on the subject, you would literally be the worst spy ever. You do realize you've given me enough information to find out exactly where you work. Granted, I've watched a lot of Law and Order , so I'm practically a detective (insert Ironics font here), but still, the clues were heavy on the ground. One Google search and a browse of your Linkedin profile would have told me everything. But don’t worry, Civilian Girl, I did not Google you. If you wanted me to know where you worked, you would tell me. I understand keeping things private. I do that too. Sometimes, it is because things are classified. But other times, it's just because they are mine, and I don’t want to share them with the world. Maybe your job is like that for you. I respect that.

I have to tell you, I've already shared more with you than I have with most people. I don’t usually tell people about Luke and Steven. It is not that I'm ashamed of Luke at all; that could not be further from the truth. The reality is, I'm usually disappointed in people’s reaction. I can deal with the overt prejudice and homophobia, because that's easy to shut down. But it's the condemnation—delivered with apparent kindness and concern—that I hate. So I usually don’t talk about my family at all. It's just easier. But since you asked, Luke and Steven are my only immediate family. I have some cousins in Montana, but I haven't seen them in years.

As for my parents, we like to say my father died of pneumonia. That is the official story, but he died of alcoholism. The irony is, he never touched alcohol until he retired, not even wine with dinner. Most people take up golf when they retire; dad took up Scotch. Luke and I didn’t know it was happening. Mom covered for him until the end. And to be honest, we were both pretty self-absorbed at that point. When he died, Luke had just moved to San Francisco and I had just started Ranger School. I was at Camp Rudder. I’ll never forget my commanding officer handing me that telegram. I think shell-shocked would be the best way to describe it. I couldn’t believe my dad was gone. He was my hero. In my mind, he had almost mythical proportions, and in the end, he was brought to his knees by the bottle.

Anyway, two years later, my mom died of breast cancer. Another base, another telegram. She never even told us she was sick. I like to think it was because she didn’t want to burden us, but sometimes, I wonder if she didn’t tell us because she didn’t think we'd be there for her even if she had. God, I hope that wasn’t the case. But I was young and stupid. I can still be stupid, but at least now I'm old enough to know better. Anyway, I hope she knew that I would have been there. And I really hope that I would have been. I can say now, looking back, that I would, but at the time…well, I hope. And now it's  my turn to say that I really should not have told you that.

We seem to have a knack for confessing things to each other. I think you’re right; it's the anonymity of this. We can talk about meeting in some parallel universe, but the reality is, we won’t, and we probably shouldn’t. That would be too weird. And it would ruin it, whatever this is. And here's the thing, Vivian, I kind of like this thing we have going. I would even go as far as saying that your three letters have been the highlight of the month. If you knew my current living situation, you wouldn't actually consider that