12 October 2001
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So Navy Boy wrote me back and filled me in on the past two and half years. And I'm proud of him, I really am. After a tumultuous final year at the Academy he's doing it. He's flying. It's strange, to hear of everything that he did and all the things that went wrong, and how he managed to find his way again. And somehow, through all of it, and everything, I was still on his mind. He thought of me. In the darkness of my room, in my bitter prayers, that was my only wish. I had such grand dreams of a life with him, but now I can say that luckily, they were all just silly youthful fantasies. Because right now, with the way the world is, I'm glad I didn't get my wish. I wouldn't want to be married to a Naval pilot for anything. Even if I am proud of him, and would be prouder still if he were still mine. Of course, I still don't know what prompted him to contact me again after all this time. Then again, I never asked. I'm not even sure that I want to. Does it matter? Because while I'm glad he contacted me, simply because my curiosity is satiated, and I'm glad he's okay, there's no interest to pursue, rekindle or build. The question is if he thinks there is. And I have to admit, it's fun to think about. He's handsome, charming, rebellious, intelligent. An officer and a gentleman. Plus, he could kiss the wind out of me. But that door's closed. He may have shut it, but I sealed it off. Perhaps now my memories of him can be sweet again. Aren't we pretty?
(Okay, so I barred out his face. It feels weird, posting a photo of him without his knowledge, him an officer and all that. I don't know. But you can get the general idea.) This was at the dance, which is why I'm still wearing his ring. During the seventh song they could take their rings off their dates and put them on. There was all this stuff with sevens. The meaning behind it all is in a little book I have tucked away somewhere, but it's not important to y'all, I'm sure. It's not important to me, either.
This was after the dance, back in the president's suite of the Park Hyatt in Washington D.C. Not our room, unfortunately, but one of his friends. Earlier, we'd stood in the rain waiting to get our pictures taken, which is why my hair's a mess at this point. But we were so happy that night.
The notify wants to know how badly you think Carson hates that cheesy Enrique video, Hero, where Mole Boy is macking all down on Jennifer Love Hewitt. (Except, I have to begrudgingly admit that she looks pretty good in it. Poor Carson and his skanky exes.)
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