Page 9 of Come Back to Me

Okay, I’m not frightened, BUT I didn’t realize our conversations would start off this way.

The last person to send me a letter was a five-year-old kid who was obsessed with Larry the lizard—his pet.

Still, this is intriguing.

But isn’t planting used panties in coffee grounds a form of assault?

The technicalities have to be a health violation at the very least. I can’t believe I’m going to run a search on this. You’ve polluted my mind and my search engine algorithm in two letters. Impressive.

Note to self: NEVER drink any coffee you make.

You do know I’m in a warzone and not at the beach, right? There’s not much to do aside from defend stuff, definitely nothing I’d classify as ‘nice.’ In fact, it’s pretty much the opposite.

Though, your letter did make me think of home, which actually was nice. I don’t think of it too often, but I know that the snow’ll be falling soon. Been a while since I’ve experienced a full winter.

Whereabouts are you from in Canada? I come from the Great Prairies. Hence the call sign lol. Never really liked Westerns, but you don’t get much of a say in what the assholes ‘round here will call you.

Quick-fire Qs in an attempt to instigate a normal, non-toxic-biohazard conversation with you…

1. Favorite candy?

2. Favorite place?

3. Favorite person?

There. Relatively normal, I hope?

Butch Cassidy

Butch Cassidy,

Oooooh, you issued a challenge!!!!

You’ll come to learn (if you’re brave enough) that I never back down from a dare.

Yes, I will always pick DARE if you ask me to choose between that and the truth.

Okay, favorite candy - I’m prefacing this by saying they’re not as sour as they used to be, but Warheads. Isn’t that fitting considering you’re a soldier and all? I like it when they make my tongue bleed. Give me allllll the sour.

And don’t say that sucking on a lime or a lemon is the same. It isn’t. I will fight you on this if you disagree with me.

Favorite place - that’s a hard one. I’ve never been to my favorite place - anywhere that doesn’t have blizzards in the winter.

At the risk of you wanting a genuine answer, I kinda like my apartment in New York. So, I’m here because Juilliard thinks I’m rather talented at the instruments I play. I got a scholarship and stuff. But that’s not why I like it here. My roomie is my favorite person (this is a BOGO response). She’s the best person I know and she’s so kind. Because you’re not telling me your name, I’m not telling you hers. I’m gonna call her Z.

So, Z and me, we come from this two-bit town in Saskatchewan that drives me crazy. My folks still live there. My whole family, to be fair. But Z and I moved together, and I’m so grateful she did. I’m not the kind of person who does well on their own. I spiral, I guess. A little too whacky for my own good.

But that’s why I think I was born to be a bruja. I should have a coven.

I like crystals too, but don’t tell Z. She’ll never let me hear the end of it.

Please, don’t tease me either? I already know it’s kooky, (and I’m practically the walking definition of kooky,) this only adds to my rep. :(

So, I was thinking about your days and I wondered… do you kill someone every day? I can’t imagine how damaging that is to the soul. If you have to, then I’m really sorry. (You never mentioned anything you want for the care package I’d like to send to you. Do you guys have baths? I have this great soak called ‘self love.’ It has nothing to do with masturbation. [Though, that’s down to user’s choice, I guess.] But it’s all about taking the time to reconnect with your inner self. I’ll get one for you. I figure you need it.)

I don’t think war’s very practical. Z wonders why I write to soldiers when everything about me disagrees with the army, but I have to. Our nations take kids and throw them onto abattlefield like it’s 1486. Sure, the weapons have changed, but the gruesome brutality of it hasn’t.

Why wouldn’t I want to talk to you? If I can give you some semblance of peace, if I can take your mind off things, if I can remind you of home and what you’re fighting for?

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