But I think you should have these. You should know what you meant to me all those years we missed in between then and now. And the other stuff, it's just my way of taking care of you even if I'm not around any longer. I just want to make sure you have all the things you need to be free if you so choose. And if this finds you later in life and you don't need it, please pass it to someone else who you think will. I trust you'll put it in good hands.

I might be gone, but I'll never leave. Ever. You have a piece of me. You always have. Since before I could understand what that meant.

I hope your life is filled with joy and wonder. And I hope we'll find a way back to each other as we did once before.

- Bobby

I took a while to get to the box. I just sat there for a while, holding his final note to me close to my heart, and then I slid it down to my tummy, so our baby could be close to her father. So she could feel his love, and what an incredible person he was. I ran my fingers along the letter, touching something he touched. I only wished his fingers were on the other end instead of paper and ink.

I placed the letter to my side and opened the box. At the top was a stack of envelopes bound together, bent and foxed from wear. I pulled on the twine and flipped through them. I pressed them to my lips and nose, taking in the scent of the old paper. Trying to find a way hug Bobby's words. I had assumed he tossed them or lost them when he was taken. When he first told me about them, I was too bitter to ask.

I choked on tears of melancholic joy. Bobby was dead, but there was still part of him left to discover. I once thought I would have a lifetime to study him, to learn something new every day, even after all the years we had known each other, but I lost that. At least this was better than what I thought I was left with.

I hesitated to open the first one. There was something precious about the way they were still sealed. But they were sealed for this purpose. So that they would be safe until they reached me when I needed them the most.

I devoured the letters. Crying. Laughing. Snorting. Snickering. Swooning.

. . . I've only been here a few days, but I met this guy named Curtis. He talks A LOT. But he's really funny. The kind of guy that makes you want to laugh when you're not supposed to. Almost got me in trouble with the SGT when I had to hold in a laugh. What a clown . . .

. . . We're getting sent to South Korea tomorrow. I'm going to be honest with you and tell you I'm nervous. I know that's not what I'm supposed to say. But I keep thinking, what if I don't come back home and I never see you again? I should have stopped by. I should have said goodbye. But I didn't want to be a disruption . . .

. . . Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and I wonder what you're doing. If you're thinking about me. If what happened between us is just a silly thing that you've gotten over. Because I haven't, Lil. I thought running off would make me forget how it felt. But all it does is make me miss you more . . .

. . . This is a little bit embarrassing. Remember Curtis? He and I have gotten really close. You'd love him. He has a girl, and well, I told him I did too. You, Lil. I know it's silly, but I tell myself that I have you waiting for me at home. Maybe I do, not in the way that I'd like, but in a way I can accept. I want to see you again, so bad . . .

. . . I saw something awful today. No, awful's not the right word. This kid, Jimmy, from Kansas. He was kind of quiet, but really nice. And right next to me, just feet away, there was an explosion and he was in pieces. Pieces all over me. And when I looked, he was still alive. But he was blown in half. And I held his hand until the life left his eyes. There are times when I want to give up. It's so cold, and I'm so tired. And there's so much noise. It's so loud. And when I get a moment of quiet, I think about your laugh. I think about you. About that night. How I thought I would never know what it would feel like to feel your lips on mine, to run my hands over your soft body. And yet, there you were, like a wish fulfilled. I know it's wrong, because you're with Rory, but I need those memories. They are the only things that keep me going. Do you think about me? Do you relive that night over and over like an obsession? I want to tell myself that it's not just me romanticizing it because I'm trapped in this hell. But you said you loved me. So I have to believe that you still go back to that night in your dreams like I did . . .

. . . Today was hard, Lil. That's all I can even put on paper. Just hard . . .

. . . So I found out about mom and dad today. You know, I thought it was going to be them getting the news about me. But here I am, bombs and bullets flying overhead, and it's them who die in the tranquility of an afternoon drive. I never wanted them to get that visit at the door. And now I'm thankful that if I go, they won't. But I also realized, that truly, there's nothing to go back to. I've created an entire world where we are together. An alternate reality where it was just you and me. What kind of asshole pines over his brother's wife? I kid myself about these fantasies of you waiting as I come off a ship, in a pretty dress, jumping into my arms. But I know it's a fantasy. Because you have Rory and he has you. And I have no one to come back to. Not even mom and dad. So I think I'm going to stop the bull. Because the truth is I lost you. And writing letters won't change that. And looking at the stars and wondering if you still think about me doesn't change that. I wanted to disappear after the wedding. And I sort of did. Dropping out of school, traveling the country. But mom and dad kept me grounded. Now that they're gone, I can truly vanish. Maybe that's for the best . . .

. . . I know I said I'd stop writing to you, but I'm here in a hospital and I begged the nurse for a paper and pen because I needed someone. And the only person I could think of was you. You're the only person I want to talk to right now. Curtis died. No . . . Curtis was shot in the head standing right next to me. You know, Curtis wasn't just a friend. He was a brother to me. I had to give up Rory in some ways. Actually, many ways. I’m sure he’s hurt that after the wedding I hit the road, and hardly called. Mom and dad told me as much. But I felt like a fraud talking to him. When Curtis came in, I had that feeling again, of a guy I could talk to, rely on. He was here and then in an instant he was gone. I'm not even sure if I'm really here. I think I am because my shoulder hurts, and the wound is there. And I hear the cries of amputees and burn victims. But I should have died. And the only reason I think I'm still here is because I am supposed to do two things Curtis asked of me. One of those things is to go get you. But I can't just get you, can I? You probably have a family now with Rory and have moved on. So that's what I need to do, too. At least I'm going to try. Become someone else for a while. And do at least one of the things I promised Curtis: tell his girl and his brother he loves them. Maybe one day, when I can think of you with a clear head, I'll come back. Just to make sure you're happy. Because if you are, then I'll know I did the right thing. But right now, I can't see you without wanting you. And it's wrong. For you. For Rory . . .

When I reached the end of the letters, I flipped the pages over frantically. I wanted more of him. The ending came too fast again. Reading the letters was sad, but it was a beautiful sadness. The kind of sadness that can only come with profound and extraordinary love. Having a love like this is a gamble, because when you lose, you lose more than you think you can afford to surrender. You lose parts of yourself you think you need to survive.