I write you countless letters in my mind. They speak words of grace and wisdom and love for all you do.
They say things like, "you are stronger than I and my best wishes go out to you." They are laid out on pretty pink parchment and scrolled in blue ink. Every i dotted with a heart and every sentence ending with a smile.
At the end of every letter, I paste an American flag with a bald eagle. Pictures of home and family are floating throughout.
We start our days back home with coffee and a shower. You start yours by loading your gun, hands trembling in fear. We pray for you as you pray for yourself. I sing for you to those who will listen. I write for you to those who will read.
While you are over there fighting for our freedom, I am over here fighting for your safe return. Although the wars we each fight differ greatly, in silence, I fear for my life as much as you fear for yours. However, we both continue to fight.
I see you on the news at night. I see the bombs and the fear in the peoples eyes. I do not envy you for your position, rather, I admire you for your courage to face the darker side of our world. I find myself in awe over the travesties you face and pull yourself through.
I know you are doing the right thing. You are keeping us safe at home from groups of mad men whose goals are to kill, kill, kill. However, there is a constant nagging in my heart that you may not make it home safely. I see your funerals on the news. I see your injuries in pictures. I see the pain in your eyes.
At night, while I write to you, I cry for you. I cry for your anguish and the stress you endure. I cry for your family and the fear they will never show you. I cry for the support we all give, knowing these could be the last days...
I cry because I care. In this time to fight, I can only love. I can only hope. I can only dream. I may not know you or understand what you face, but I still fear for you. I pray for you. I sing and write for you. And I anxiously await the day you walk American soils again...