Day 29/week 5

Haven't talked to you since Saturday, and I know what that means. No news is good news.... But someone else's family got news, I'm sure. The worst kind of news. My heart is aching for someone tonight, and I'm not even sure if I've ever met them.

I'm writing these letters to you, and I know you read them everyday. While they may be going on the blog, I'm not going to censor my fear and worry because it may scare someone. That being said, I know that while you may be "relatively safe" on the FOB, I'm not kidding myself into believing that you can't be hurt. Believing something can't or won't happen doesn't protect you from it. We always used to joke "hope for the best, prepare for the worst," but there is so much truth in that. Ignoring the danger doesn't lessen it.

I know that many people believe that because we no longer have a presence in Iraq, and there is talk of pulling out of Afghanistan, that it's relatively safe, and we should pull out and come home. 20 deaths from a very small brigade in 8 months....that's not relatively safe. It's a WAR ZONE.

I can't understand how I'm supposed to just swallow that fear. I can manage the fear, just like I can manage an illness or wound. I can cover it up, push it down, stay busy to not think about it...but that doesn't make it go away. And it's going to creep back up at times when I least expect or want it to rear its ugly head.

I know that you're scared, too, and that fear keeps you alert. I'm glad for that, because I need you to come home unharmed. I know the danger you are in is very real, and I'm praying will all I've got, not just for your safely, but for the safety of all of you. I also pray that you know how much love you carry with you everywhere you go.

You're my hero. Please be careful. You're protecting my heart, too, so I need you to bring that back to me in one piece. I love you, soldier, with all my heart. God speed. Goodnight.