Journal From a Submariner VII

in #writing7 years ago

DATE 05SEP10, TIME 1326
Couldn’t sleep yet again this time because of an email you sent me. It was about you hanging out with “Andrew and Ryan”. It really fucked me up seeing my name in an email, but knowing it wasn’t me you were having fun with. I am going crazy. I know you didn’t send it to me to be malicious, or anything because a normal person would not have been bothered by it. I’ve said plenty of times, the fact that I can’t hang out with you, and especially since those two should be here, it is making me go insane.
Isolation is the worst thing I have ever had to deal with, and having all these thoughts of what you’re doing at any one time, is really fucking with me. I know you wouldn’t cheat on me, but the fact is I have nothing else to think about. Then I get an email from you telling me how great of a time you’re having with Andrew and Ryan, while I am stuck down here.
It’s been a rough day, and I hope when you read this; you don’t take it the wrong way.
I really need to talk to someone, a therapist, the chaplain, or someone because I am getting fucked up in the head. It’s shitty that the littlest things you say affect me so harshly down here. I know you aren’t there thinking, ‘’I’m going to hurt Andrew today’’ and I don’t want you to be alone. I want to be the one who’s there with you…but I can’t be.
Catch 22’s, they fucking suck. Besides all that, I had a crazy dream last night. First I was at Santana High School, and a bunch of guys from the boat went there with us. School got out and we all lived far away from school…like Point Loma, I think we all lived on the boat. When we were leaving school, we had to go catch a bus that was a 30-minute walk. We didn’t know where everyone was, but if we didn’t make that bus, we wouldn’t be to the boat for underway on time. Anyways, then we get underway and the boat is a totally different boat. Then you are there, and we are making out, and I start eating you out. This is in the middle of this room with a bunch of racks in it, but they were all empty. Then Howell walks in and I throw a blanket around you, but he just stands there and stares. I start yelling at him to get out, and then Doc hears me, and comes down a latter. “What’s going on down here? Ah I see.” Then he says berthing is a shit pit. So he can stay down in the space you were in he makes everyone come down and start cleaning berthing while you are juicing under the blanket. It was all really weird, and I think that is a major part of why I couldn’t sleep. Now, I am awake and I am going to finish a movie before watch, it’s called The Holiday, it’s a love story. Love you, forever and always, love babe.

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