Dear Jonathan

Chapter 6

Jonathan

 Coffee shops. I hate them.

"Uh, hi. Can I get the usual for the nurse up on the eighth floor?"

"Sure. What size?"

"I honestly don't know. Let's see, you have tall.. grande.. venti.. Grande means big, doesn't it? Is that the one she gets?"

"No."

"Just make what she normally has, I don't know anything about coffee."

"Anything else for you?"

"A sweet tea for me."

"This is a coffee shop, not your local McDonalds. Do you see 'sweet tea' anywhere on that menu right in front of your face?"

"I'll take a hot chocolate then! Christ!"

As I walked back to the table with our drinks in hand, I couldn't help but hang my head. Embarrassment doesn't even begin to cover how I felt after reading that letter yesterday.. I felt like the scum of the earth. After you've been in the marines for a certain amount of time and your life has flashed before your eyes more times than you can count, you learn a thing or two about yourself. When you are out on that field, everyone is equivalent. That was a tough pill to swallow because, well, I am Jonathan! I don't follow rules, I make them! I'm not just some commoner, at least that's what I thought.. the sergeant got that out of my system real quick in basic training. I am no different than anyone else. When you are fighting for your life, and for the freedom of your country, everyone out there that is fighting with you is equal. I learned that you always look out for your brother, you defend him to the death. Together we are stronger. We are one mind, one body, one operation, one brotherhood. We are the defenders of humanity! That's what I learned while I was overseas. But if Michael would have been in my troupe after I slept with him, I wouldn't have defended him for shit, in fact I probably would have lead him to the front lines and deserted him.. That made me sick to my stomach. How can I even call myself a marine when I know I would look at Michael differently? It shouldn't be different with him. But it is. Why? How can he pour his heart out to me like that and I can hardly look at him in the face without feeling guilty? I must be as terrible as he is saying.

When I finished reading the letter yesterday things started getting a little wild. Michael started having some sort of fit.. it wasn't exactly a seizure or a stroke but it sure was scary as hell. He was already crying after I got done reading, then his face started to flush and it looked like something was trying to come out of him like Renesmee in Breaking Dawn. His nurse came running in his room and started screaming at me asking me who I was and why I was there after visiting hours. She didn't wait for me to answer her question, she saw the letter in my hand and snatched it from me. After scanning it for a moment the nurse became downright livid. She slapped me and wanted to know where I found "The nerve to step foot in this hospital room!" You don't slap a marine. Ever. But I didn't want to be arrested so I kept my cool.

We didn't get off on the right foot. Apparently, since I sent him into one of his "episodes" by reading his letter, I have to buy her coffee on a regular basis. I negotiated with her and she agreed to tell me a little bit about Michael's unknown condition each day.

"So, you're the infamous Jonathan, " she said after taking a big swig from her nasty-smelling coffee. "From everything that Michael told me about you, I thought you would be pretty hot. But you're not. You're ugly inside and out." The wench lies. I am #beautiful, Mariah Carey told me.. she's my guilty pleasure.. "I have spent the past five years getting to know this man, and let me tell you, he is remarkable! I think more of Michael than my own father and that's no joke."