Dear Diary,
When I got out of the psychward the first time.. I tried to say sgt, I love you so much but there is a literal bigass target on your back. We are in McDonald's and you are begging me to say your name just once....I dont know how
Your last name is noe....i can spell it i can remember your rank....you were a sgt you were a marine. ..
You literally saved my life with that nasty ass box of chow and the bottle of water. It has been 16 hours im stuck in this fucking metal box.... its 126 degrees outside this box is a mailroom in Afghanistan.
All you were trying to do was check mail for your unit, but somehow you saw my pain. You were the only one, the first to notice me here...
You bring me food and water...and its in front of two gunnery sergeants you can't see. You don't know the gravity of the situation because you didnt see them you saw me
When I reached for the box of chow I said whatever I dont care im about to die in here anyways.
But then I touched your hand on accident looked up at you and accidentally blurted oh wow in front of these two staff ncos that you dont see...
BTW food and water is a literal federal offense in the mail room. I accidentally put a target on your back becuase..wellll I blurted in front of two sexuality frustrated gunnery that I would rather be dead....
Then you show up and the wrong time and because of what I said, because I blushed and smiled and said go away this is danger .. . .
And now you are a beautiful dream painted in red