Soft love

My soldier

It started as a school assignment, 7 years ago. Write a letter to a brave soldier defending our country. And by pure chance, her letter was sent to James. 

She did not think much about him then, not really expecting an answer to her fairly standard letter talking about what she did that day, what she was thinking of studying when she graduated, etc. But she was curious about life overseas, so she wrote her address at the end of her letter. 

A month later, she found a letter in her mailbox. His handwriting was the first thing she noticed. The thin letters were placed meticulously, so soft yet precise. Apparently she was the first anonymous letter he ever received and he was eager to hear about her life. So she started writing more and more to him, like he was her personal diary. Every friend she made, every boy she dated, every exam she took... 

She told him about the books she was reading for school and included the parts she loved the most, to get his opinion on.  Sometimes, she sent him a little card with a sunset she painted with her mother's paints. She would tell him about Denise and Annie, her best friends, and Oscar, her neighbour. How they met every Saturday at Denise's parents' place so her dad could teach them how to defend himself. Robert was a cop after all. At first he just teached his daughter from time to time, but soon she and other friends wanted to learn too. Afterwards, the girls would go out and watch a movie or eat dinner together. It had become tradition. 

She also told him about her struggles to find a job after graduating, turns out a degree in English literature did not open that many doors for her. But after an exhausting year, she landed her dream job, teaching English. He was the first person she told about her first day of being a teacher and the last person she would think of before falling asleep, that day and all others.

When she didn't hear from him for half a year she started to worry. She wrote him dozens of letters and crumpled even more letters up, not wanting to overwhelm him. But on that beautiful morning in February, she found a letter in her mailbox. Identical to that very first one, as they always were. She felt the moment the weight was lifted from her shoulders. She could breathe again. Until she finished the first paragraph. James was ambushed a few days after he wrote his previous letter. He survived but spent months healing and somehow, his mail didn't reach him in the hospital.

But he was in London now. 

They had sent him back and offered him a position coordinating operations from London. He was in doubt for a while. It was the first time he asked for her advice. She of course told him to follow his heart, but I hoped he would come to Londen. "Maybe we could meet each other once then, in real life...", she'd added in a brave mood. 

Well, he took her up on the offer. 

Which leads me back to right now: looking in the mirror and judging my outfit. Was the dark green dress a bit too boring? Was a wrap dress even in fashion still? Did I wear enough makeup? "I mean, this is not a date. It's just a catchup between old friends", I tried to calm myself. "Yeah, a friend who's about to see you for the first time", my subconscious added. 

But I was also curious. We'd exchanged pictures once, but he probably changed a lot in that time. Especially since he told me he was left with some scars. He did not elaborate on them but I could tell he sounded self-conscious about it. 

And then I heard a knock on my door. He was here!

I opened my door but immediately had to close my eyes since the sunlight was blinding me. 

"Lucy...", I heard him say. 

I stepped to the side and took a look at him. 

His picture did him a disservice. He was tall, about a head taller than her, and tan. His eyes were somewhere between brown and green, complimenting his short dark brown hair. He had a sharp jawline and pronounced cheekbones. And his smile might just be final drop. I had to stabilise myself, my knees were giving out... I quickly grabbed the cupboard next to the door. Something I couldn't identify yet flashed across his face and he cautiously came closer.