12. Chapter 12
Sandbox
Dear Sadie,
I’m excited you’re the person who popped my care package cherry. I’d be happy for you to pop more of my cherries, but I don’t think at thirty years old, I have any left. Unless you count getting shot in the ass. And I do not want that particular cherry popped.
(My buddy just got shot in the ass if you’re wondering why I’m fixating on ass shots. Don’t worry. I’m safe. It was his own damn fault. And, no, I can’t tell you any details. I’ve been sworn to secrecy.)
Does it make me a weirdo that I like how you smile and blush when you read my letters? If so, I guess I’m a weirdo. I bet you’re cute as hell when you blush.
And, yes, that picture was really me. My brothers dared me to send it. I’m glad you approve of the picture. And now I’m the idiot who’s blushing and trying to hide from everyone. I guess we have plenty in common that way.
Since I’m already blushing, I might as well confess. Reading your letters is the best part of my month. Is it weird I feel a connection to you even though we’ve never met in person?
Forget I said that. I blame the current tension in the camp. We don’t know anything yet. But after a decade in the Army, I can feel the tension before something big happens. Apparently, this tension makes me confess things to my pen pal by mistake that I should keep to myself.
I’m not usually a big talker. If you ever meet me in person, you’ll be disappointed with all the silence. It’s an important skill in the Army to be able to keep quiet for hours on end. I’m going to stop prattling on like a teenage boy and get this letter sent before I have to go out on patrol.
Stay safe Sadie,
Ben