Chapter 2
Chapter Two
My Sweet Ava,
Right after my plane took off and I looked out the window to see the Atlantic Ocean, I questioned everything.
Why did I do this to us? How can I go the next seven months, and then the years to follow, without touching you?
Kissing you? Making love to you under our tree?
Why didn’t I just take out loans instead of letting the military pay for medical school?
The entire flight over I was sure I was going to book a return flight home the moment I landed and figure a way out of this without being thrown in the brig.
But then we landed and were immediately whisked away to the base because there was some kind of threat.
As soon as we got there, a helicopter arrived to evacuate a few injured military personnel.
Ava, one of them was missing limbs. It was shocking to see firsthand the damage IEDs can do to a body.
I knew it happened, but seeing it up close and personal as they were loaded into the chopper just hit home, and I knew I wouldn’t be going AWOL.
In that moment, I understood why I’m here and what I need to do.
I need to fix people like him. Ones with worse injuries even. And someday… ones like your mom.
I love you to the moon and back, you know that. But this is my calling. That I’m sure of. I’m going to be the best surgeon one day. And it’s all because of you. Your love. Your support. Your unwavering confidence that our love will endure.
As I write this, I’m staring at the picture you took of us four days ago.
I know how sad you were that I was leaving, but I promise that will not be the last time we visit our tree.
I swear to you, every time I’m home, we’ll go there.
Even if it’s just so I can kiss you and make a new memory for us to hold onto.
Because memories of you are what’s going to get me through this.
I have to laugh a little, because by the time you receive this letter, we’ll have emailed each other for sure, and maybe even gotten to talk on the phone.
(I can’t wait for that. I already miss your sexy, calming, oh-so-familiar voice.) But we said we’d write.
I know you wanted to add to your collection of letters in your box.
I think you may need to get a bigger box!
Just remember one thing. What we go through during these years will all be worth it in the end. Especially when I get to take off my white coat at the end of a long day of doing what I love and come home to a big, beautiful house where my wife and children will run out to greet me.
Yours forever,
Trev