I stare out the window idly, watching the new eager men battling to be the best versions of themselves possible. They’re happy now, excited to see what the future holds for them. Sucked in by guys like Brandon, just as I was, they feel like their lives are just about to get started and I bet they can’t wait. I was the same when I stood there in the same position. I couldn’t wait to really get out into the world and truly make a difference. Now, I want to scream at them all to tell them that they shouldn’t want that for themselves because it’s hell. The ones who will head out onto the front line will end up dead, injured, or watching their friends die. It isn’t going to be this masculine, heroic thing they have in their mind, and I wish I could prepare them so they know better. Of course, I can’t because it’ll probably put them off completely, but still I don’t have to like it. It feels like fooling them.
“Good, thank you for that,” I say with a sharp nod to Michael. “Glad it’s all working out well.”
“And, erm…” He looks a little uncomfortable for a moment. “I have some information on the… you know, the other topic as well.” He practically whispers the words ‘other topic’ like they’re dirty words, which I suppose that they’ve become around here. Everyone knows I want to find out about Veronica, but that I find it hard.
“Yep, okay.” I notice my cheeks heating up with fear as well as embarrassment. It isn’t ideal to show any sort of weakness in the military, but when it comes to her she’s left with me no choice. “What do you have?”
Michael doesn’t say anything else, instead, he places a folder delicately on my desk as if it might explode like a bomb and he tiptoes out. I drum my fingers on the top of it, unable to risk opening it just yet. I’m scared what I might find inside. I’m always afraid. One of these days I’m utterly petrified that I’ll get the worst news. I’m sure I’d be able to tell by the way someone delivers me the dreaded folder, but there will always be a chance.
It’s okay, I try my hardest to convince myself. It’s going to be fine, just take a peek inside and see…
But I can’t do it immediately. My heart thunders against my rib cage leaving my brain spinning violently. I know that she made the choice to leave me despite my wishes, and I’m well aware that she hasn’
t even bothered to contact me once since, but I can’t help loving her. She will always be the one no matter what. Every single time I try to convince myself that maybe letting go is for the best, I remember all the good times we shared, all the promises that we made to one another and I just know that I’m not ready to say goodbye.
I just hope she feels the same way when… and if I suppose, she comes back to me.
Just do it, just open it already. Stop holding it like it’s a weapon of mass destruction. It’s just some papers.
It takes a while. Longer than I care to admit, but finally I pull the page open. As I see the first picture of her, interviewing one of the locals in Afghanistan, a tear comes to my eye. She’s not her, I can see that I’m losing her. She’s more this ‘Ronnie’ character than ever before. The woman who loves her career more than anything else. The woman who didn’t even want to hear what I had to say, who likes Christopher more than me, the woman who I barely even know anymore. This isn’t my Veronica, but I still love her. My heart still bleeds.
I stare at the image of her for a while just wishing that I could hold her. If I think about it for long enough I can almost feel her there, clinging to me and laughing at something I have to say. Just like she used to. I wish I could be there with her. Veronica is the only person I’d go back to Afghanistan for, but I just can’t. My command is here now, my career is here. I have no choice but to remain in this place as I’m told.
I run my finger down her cheek, trying to send the mental message that I love her. I want her to hear it, to feel it, to just know. I don’t know if we still have the bond anymore, but I can but try. Hope it isn’t severed forever. After which I begin searching through the text, trying to give me any indication as to how she’s doing, but it’s all very basic. It’s enough that I’ve used my connections to get this much, I cannot ask for more however much I want to. If I push my luck I might end up with nothing. Nothing but the news which I can hardly stand to watch.
Okay, well I suppose I’m going to have to be satisfied with the knowledge that Veronica is safe and alive. For now. But she’ll have to come back soon anyway, won’t she? Surely, they won’t leave her out there for much longer. Especially if things are about to get a whole lot worse, which from what I’ve heard, they are?
Come back to me, Rusty, I beg her silently. Let’s make this right again.
Of course, I regret the way we left things. I regret it every single day. While I can’t go back and change it, I can make it better when she returns. One thing I know for sure is that I’ll be so much better when she comes back. Somehow, I’ll find a way to prove to Veronica that I am worthwhile. I wouldn’t want that to be the lasting impression that she has of me. That’s why she absolutely cannot die. I can’t lose her anyway, but I really can’t know that she’s been killed hating my guts. I’ll never be the same man again.
***
I rewind the video to watch it again, for what feels like the hundredth time. Now that I’ve opened the box and I’ve stuck my head in, I need to see Veronica over and over again. I don’t recognize where she is, it isn’t a part of Afghanistan I ever went to, but I know it enough. It’s an impoverished village where the people are desperate and sick of war. They’ve been fighting for a lot longer than we were in the country, I know that much.
Yet, I’m jealous of them. In this clip, they’re close enough to the love of my life to touch her, and I am forever away. I still can’t quite work out how we got ourselves into this ridiculous situation. I shake my head and watch the report from start to finish once more. My heart bleeds, the sensation is agony, but I force myself to see her again. The knowledge that my cell phone sits silently in my pocket without even one text from her, is horrible.
Then again, I suppose I haven’t exactly reached out and contacted her either. I’m a stubborn fuck though, she knows that. But I guess that just means it’ll make much more of an impact if I do text.
I tug my phone out with a surge of determination, knowing that today will be the day I make it right. I’m going to write out a message right now, send it to her in a text and an email, then at least I’ll know that I’ve tried. There will be a million and one reasons why she might not get back in touch, mainly the signal or the responsibilities she has, but I will be assured that I did everything I could. I might be able to sleep a little easier…
Only, it isn’t as straight forward to write this message as I assumed it might be. There are so many things I want to say and lots that I don’t know how to. This message is heavy and important, I need to get it right. I absolutely have to ensure that no word is taken wrong to escalate this row further. It’s delicate. Somehow, my thick skull can’t seem to come up with anything decent. It’s a nightmare. It’s like there’s a big black hole in my brain where my thoughts should be which is incredibly frustrating. I want to shake myself, to smack myself on the side of the head, to do anything to make her know just how much I love her. If only I had done this sooner, the words I love you alone might have been enough. I’m such an idiot.
I make the choice to head up to bed, to put the news on the twenty-four-hour channel just in case anything comes up, and I’ll write from there. I don’t much like being in the bed, it’s very lonely, but I suppose I can’t complain too much about that. I left Veronica in a pit of loneliness too. This is her revenge.
I brace myself once I’ve climbed under the sheets and I bring the TV to life, I try to prepare myself for the worst, but thankfully there’s nothing even about Afghanistan playing. America is obsessed with itself once more and some politician that’s been involved in a scandalous relationship with a mistress. Nothing that affects me, so I tune it out, I focus on my phone screen, and I try to write. The words will come, they have to…
***
“Huh, what?” I jump up in a hurry as sunlight streams through the window. “What… where?”
Immediately, it becomes clear that falling asleep with the news playing in the background wasn’t the smartest idea that I’ve ever had. Nightmares filled my sleep so badly that I instantly switch it off so nothing else can infect my subconscious. That was really unpleasant and definitely not what I need right now. Blood, death, and gambling crimes which have ended up going incredibly wrong… yep, not helpful at all.
As I scramble out of the bed, my fingers land on my phone which reminds me that I haven’t yet sent off a message to Veronica. I had lots of false starts, but nothing felt right, and since it’s been a while there’s a lot of pressure to get it exactly right. I don’t even know where to begin. Hi, or hey doesn’t feel quite right. Nor does something much more formal. I’ll get there, it’ll come in the end, but I cannot rush it. I tried that and it didn’t work out for me. I’m utterly sick of making mistakes. Especially when it comes to my love life.
And right now, judging by the time I’m running late. I must have slept through my alarm which isn’t acceptable. I need to get to work right now. I might not be as useful as I once was when I was cannon fodder in Afghanistan, but I still have a role, there are still things I very much need to do. People need me. So, I chuck my phone back where it was, letting the pressure fall off me for a while, so I can get dressed. It’s just for a while, then it’ll be back again, stressing me out until I do it. My life is in limbo until I communicate with Veronica again. I won’t be happy, I can’t move on. I’m just stuck.
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