He had sprayed cologne, sure he was orderly and kept — Even going as far to pay close attention to his head and facial hair.
While some men in this town didn't even bother to wash their hands, he was making sure he was evenly clean shaven.
Did these circumstances repel you? Did you prefer some worldly, man-beast that cared not for anyone but himself and his desires? He felt fear, because he could never become that.
After all, from the age of seven-teen to now he studied fervently to mold himself into a suitable husband for you.. Gentle. Proper. Personal. Then out of nowhere, it was apparent that none of that mattered. All of the boy's hard work for literally nothing.
It inspired such turmoil that the only place left to turn to was God. And so the boy prayed: Each and every night, he inquired above as to what he was missing for you, what steps he should take that'd fit better. How to at-least turn your spite to neutrality.
It was never meant to go like this.
You were supposed to gradually fall in love with him & the scripture, then travel along with him down a long list of firsts. A true and honest life — one as lovers, companions.
What had he ever even done wrong? Lee just wished either God or you answered justly; but neither of you did him. His prayers seemed to have just dried up one day. When he would write, it was after his hands cracked and mind became jumbled with verses and hymns, and all he needed to see was someone flesh and human like him.
Each time he attempted to deliver these cry for helps, these peace offerings, they met the hands of your parent and the unsure fate you put them to. If you burned, stored, ripped them he didn't know.
He should suppose that the far worst part is that you never responded. In real life you'd respond to him occasionally; Quite shortly, but hearing the voice of a lovely, young woman could cheer anyone up. The 'Hello's and 'Goodbye's were greatly appreciated despite being so simple. But not a singular grain of effort back. He had half the mind to kick his desk in frustration at the thought..
War was not simple like you. It attacked him before he even claimed his draft. Gnawing, scratching. Like a demon it followed him from the day he saw his number onscreen 'til the day he marched down to the office with the bag of necessities.
A week had claimed his dignity. He was stripped of all humanity and individuality. People say that they lose their sense of self the second they shave your head and give you your uniform.. That wasn't his case.
First to go was his personality, replaced with a better, more strategic one. His usually boisterous voice was lowered and converted in favor of a more calculative one — It was easier to inform that way, and to his surprise people began to listen better.
Maybe that's what he was missing before. Explicit direction. It should not have been, Let me know if you'd like to go out with me. It should have been - We'll make a couple. Be good to me.
Man, he didn't know how other's did it until now. His past actions were much too hesitant.. especially on the topic of manhandling you, but apparently that's how things needed to go.
Each drill presented him with what was necessary and good. Crawling, shooting, hiding.
Being accurate slowly began to matter more than what was being executed. If he was ordered to pick a weapon from a dying man, he fulfilled it with less than a thought. If the task included harming someone, the only way he could cull the apprehension is if he convinced himself that God wanted to train him in this way. He wanted him to kill and gorge, because that's the only way things could be different. A loyal follower, he was. Each morning, his bunkmate - Henson - was in charge of preparing him for the day ahead.
They ate and prayed together every evening, but poor Leeroy was infiltrated by his way of life despite it.
If your holy man told you to jump, do you? Yes. If he tells you to kill, do you? God, yes.
So then, he leads our artillery to kill the scum that wants to run him out. It's out of our hands. Don't you see, Leeroy?
He saw. He felt more power in Henson than he felt in his own church. Henson was the short, red-headed version of that man-beast he felt disgust for not so long ago, but he was no satyr. The older man was a hero and a devote christian. God looked so different in the ginger's eyes — Instead of being the protector, he was what needed to be protected.
We weren't at war, this whole ordeal was about defense - defending the cross. Jesus was persecuted. So are we. Do you follow?
It made so much sense that it filled Lee up to the brim. Different was a good word for it.. Brilliant was more precise. Why had he expected God to do all of the work while he was physically on earth, capable of it all?
Thankfully, The past was dead and buried.
About two months between basic training and defense, Henson flashed a picture of his woman. A blonde girl, kissed by the sun. She had a face like Theda Bara. Lee wasn't interested. This new visage had utterly and completely transformed him. He wondered if you would enjoy how mature he came to be. It made sense that you weren't bending back for some little boy that spent all of his days in the window. Future him would terrify him. Full of honor, scripture — perfectly aligned.
..And he also couldn't help but notice how muscular he was now that he was this active. He peeked at his arm as it bulged and retreated each time he flexed.
" I have a woman back home. I left her photo in my bible, It's my only one. "
" Really? Mine takes too many photos. Don't know what to do with 'em all. "
" Lucky man. " He could only imagine you posed similarly to that. With your bosom against the floor, bottom and feet visible. It was a sweet pose. Even the clothes she wore would look quite nice on you, especially the shoes. He was thinking about you alot more often now that the initial shock wore away. Thinking of your hair and hands was like a safety blanket, for when he was particularly fried by the day. At night his mind wanders so far.
Had you cut your hair, or was it the same length? Had you lost weight and become paper light? Or had you gained more, filling out beautifully as he secretly desired?
Would you be wearing the tinted powder you wore at the party, or was your face natural and calm like usual? Oh, he couldn't handle it.
When he stared down at the tufts of hair lining his stomach, he rolled his eyes in indignation.
The next morning he asked Henson, albeit a bit shyly, " Well, what do you think about intimacy? If God allows you to take life as long as it's in his name, what else does he allow? Merciless sex, unlawful intimacy? "
" All is fair in love and war, " Henson grunted. " When you lay with a woman, it's up to you to do her right. It's not all black and white, Roy. You kill here because if you don't, you'll die. Remember that. " A loud cough rang out the room. " And remember, you won't be seein' a, er- female for a long time here... When you do, if she looks better than the one back home, you'll forget all about'er. "
The thought put a frown on Lee's face. He supposed he could see where Henson came from with his mousy, blonde thing. But such a feat would be impossible for him. He forced himself to memorize your face before leaving so he could think of it before he slept. They were not the same.
At just about the six month mark, Henson had to leave on separate business & they bid each other good-bye. This was also a pivotal moment — Lee had to learn how to lose. Henson was gone, here was his replacement, Daniel. Temporary things should be switched out, It had to become more natural for him if he wanted to survive. But when he crumbled, it was hard.
Daniel had dark hair like him, but his was much longer. Only then did it really hit him how long some of the other soldiers were here for. Dan was not a big talker. He was all do, like a machine. Didn't even pray. The black haired man would awaken with his rifle, dress, and leave with hardly any words.
After a year and a half had come Lee found himself copying this schedule to a T. Things had to be done correctly, and his roommate had the precision of an arrow.
Coming up on a sum of two years away from home, the two were released into the active battle field. Never was such an ugly sight produced in the darkest corners of his mind. All 6 senses were assaulted when you were stuck in those godless trenches or made to clear the forest. Dan lost his life not soon after.
That was the last partner they had for him. So he was sent somewhere else, and it surely made less sense there. He found a Jewish man and a Black man, who happened to be a christian too.
He could hardly bond with them like he did Henson though. That's when he'd sink back into thinking of you.
" Perry, Johnson. Letters. "
The sergeant entered their sleeping quarters with envelopes and Martins nearly jumped out of his skin. He could've been writing letters for the entirety of his journey. But when he thought about it, he was almost happy the contrast would be so drastic. You'd be talking to a man now.
Over the course of 4 weeks, he had sent 7 letters. There was still no answer for a good 5 of so months, until he received his first letter from your address EVER. He nearly broke down upon hearing the sharp 'Martins!' being yelled along with an awaited envelope.
The male tore it open with such vigor it nearly ripped in half. He was confused at how blank it was: All it said was a simple and honest,
'I'm still not interested.' There was no name, no date or even a greeting or closing. He felt like his chest was wrung dry.
He slammed the paper on the table and scooted away angrily. Despite this newly found confidence, all it took was a small reminder of what he would never have to plague his day - no, week. He grabbed the pencil and nearly broke it in two writing back.
All scum needed to be cleansed. Fleetingly, Lee wished a big flood would come on the world again like it did during Noah's life so then you'd have a reason to Beg.
Just one time, you should plea at his knees like he kneeled at yours. Have your heart ripped out and come to him for comfort. Repent.
The page was stained so directly with words that he was almost taken aback. He folded it and stuffed it into the envelope, presenting it to the officer in record time. He didn't regret, but the shame never stopped.
~
Lots of things had changed the past years. Your mind notably. There was only one anchor of the past still grappling you like something perverted.
" Mail, honey! "
It was him. All of the other letteres remained unread, but you wondered if this last one had maybe finally got through. When you opened the paper, you were met with dark black near-chicken scratch littering the page. It was so ridiculous you were actually interested in what he was saying.
You regret reading it.
2 years had gone by too fast, you hoped he was doing a 10 year like some men had to. Otherwise.. you earnestly didn't even want to think otherwise.
'[NAME]
THE WAR IS BATHROY. TO BE DRAFTED, THE FEAR ANY FEAR, IT BECOMS TANGIBLE. YOU DON'T CARE.
DO YOU KNOW WHAT? I'M SCORNED. BECAUSE WHILE I'M OUT SERVING MY COUNTRY, YOU'RE HOME SMILING. LAUGHING, EVEN. UNTAINTED.
AND FOR SOME SICK DISGUSTING REASON IT STILL BRINGS ME COMFORT IMAGINING IT. NO MATTER HOW MUCH YOU DEFORM YOURSELF BY REFUTING ME & NOT HONORING GOD IN A PROPERLY FEMININE WAY. YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL. NO OTHER SMILE APPEARS WHEN THE GUILT OF CENTURIES IS UPON ME.
CAN I ASK WHY YOU.RE SELFISH? WAS MY BARE SELF NOT ENOUGH? DO YOU WANT MY MONEY YOU DEVIL?
SINCE YOU CAN WRITE, ANSWER THIS: ARE YOU BUSY GIVING YOUR WHORE BODY UP TO THE FIRST MAN THAT ISN'T ME? '
The rant took up an almost revolting amount of paper. As you make it to the bottom, you held your breath.
' NO MATTER. THINGS 'LL BE DIFFERENT IN '69
GOD SAVE YOU.
I WISH I DIDN'T LOVE YOU,
LEE. '