I've contemplated where I should begin with the story of Mike. I feel like it's the recent installment of the long story of my life, as such background information would be helpful. However, I'd like to get Mike "washed out of my hair" and I think the quicker I get it out the better for me getting past it. Some days are better than others.
It's been almost three months since I realized things were over with Mike. I say realized because the last time I heard from Mike was in a letter dated 6/24/03. However, I received it on 7/12/03, which was actually pretty good since mail from Iraq took up to two months to receive at times. (I wish I could scan the letter but I haven't figured out how to hook my printer/scanner up to the computer yet. I recently bought a new computer and my OS isn't exactly compatible with my printer. Thanks Microsoft! Xerox has tried helping but it still isn't doing the trick.) So here is the letter, and I'll try to start telling the "story" amongst his words as I retype the letter here.
Dear Robbi,
(That would be me, except for some reason, he always misspelled my name in his letters but got it right in his emails. I think it goes back to one of my earlier posts where I wondered if my "male" name was a hang-up for guys).
And so he wrote:
Hey girlie what's up? Same ol shit here. Just got back from a 2 week convoy all across Iraq. (Yes, this is a fragment, but I,m keeping it true to his writing.) Was pretty interesting actually, but very tense. A lot of grateful people here, but a lot of hateful people here also. They still don't like westerners at all. A lot of Iranian crazies running around. There is a bounty now out on American military.
(This was a worrisome point for me since I thought Mike would be fairly safe since his job was working as operations chief for a tactical field exchange and it wasn't for another two months before it was even in the news here about the bounties.)
So we are all stressed out when we have to go anywhere. I'm back at the university now so it should be ok for the time being. Sorry it's been a while since I wrote.
I know your [sic] probably upset with me. My whole family is also. Haven't really written them much. You send me so much mail and goodies.
(I tried my best to send him a letter or something at least every other day. I was hoping it would help keep his spirits up. He was horribly depressed about having to go over there. I used to be in the Army, many moons ago, and mail means the world when you are so far from home.)
And I'm such a chode (I had no clue what this word meant and couldn't find it in any dictionary. So, I went to the 'net for the answer.) about writing. My day starts at about 0445 (that's 4:45am for you non-military types) and I get to bed at about 2200. (10:00pm) Our work day is long and it's so damn hot that I am just worn the hell out and fall asleep as soon as I'm in the rack. I got all your packages with all the CDs.
(I got him some CDs for his birthday Godsmack, Metallica, Linkin Park, etc. - His CDs were thrashed by the sand. It took him almost 2 months to receive them because they kept moving him around.)
You Rule!! They kick ass and I appreciate it so much! How will I ever repay you? Hmmmm...
--Continued later. Sorry. Homework calls.
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