17 July 2007

To whom it may concern...

This is one of those letters without an addressee. It has to be a letter – it doesn’t really feel like a journal entry of any kind – and it definitely should be read by someone. I just can’t tell who you’re supposed to be.

So maybe that’s the problem. I just watched Garden State, and listening to the final song – it brings up this feeling, this feeling very well summed up in the movie – and it requires, yes requires, some response, something done in reaction. It’s that song, that movie, that time that it came out, all of fills me a feeling of love and and anticipation of something great coming up. And therein lies the new, interesting twist and the reason I’m writing to you.

That feeling that I had to share this great feeling, share it with someone (though I don’t know who) because something big is about to happen. And it occurs to me that, indeed in my life, something big is about to happen. We’re starting our clearance of [REMOVED] soon, and while I am not expecting any kind of terrible thing to happen to me, I know that it could. And all this thinking of someone to share it with makes me realize that I never wrote you the letter I had intended. The letter I had meant to write months ago and leave in a safety deposit box in Dupont, Wa. Just in case.

It’s not a fear of death. For some reason, I don’t fear it at all (and that may change once I’ve experienced a little more combat), and the thought that I might die doesn’t really affect me at. It’s not really fatalism (I don’t think), it’s just that if I die, if not I don’t, and while I’m here in Iraq I’ll do all the things I can to stay alive (but this being the Army, all of those things are already rules I have to follow anyway). It’s not even a fear of being misunderstood. If I’m dead and you didn’t know exactly what I thought of you – well, that’s unfortunate, but I’ll live (pun intended).

But I should have written you a letter – I intended to. I was going to tell you all the stuff you and I already knew, things that we don’t talk about because they would complicate things or because they seem too sappy said aloud. I was going to be casually eloquent – too verbose, too formal and I would sound forced, too casual would read forced and not leave the impression I was looking for.

I thought about writing the letter before I left, giving it to you the last time I saw you – telling you to read it once I was safely far away, still in the US, maybe, or maybe once I took off – but I decided against it. Perhaps because I chickened out, perhaps because I thought it wouldn’t be productive, and might even be detrimental. Maybe I just ran out of time. Whatever it was, I’ve neglected it too long. So, soon I think I’ll write it soon. For now, however, you’ll have to make do with this one. How long you’ll have to wait for the next one depends on a lot of factors – only some of which are under my control.

posted by Interested Soldier @ 01:33