I have loved him since the day I met him. I was 15. He was 18. He was in the Marines and I was a sophomore going through everything a sophomore possibly could. My family was falling apart, I was the only pillar of stability for everyone around me, I was constantly being molested and abused by men in my desire to feel love. And then he came along. He stole my heart. I won’t lie, I kept talking to other men. but he was always in the back of my mind. I dubbed him My S*** Marine. I told my friends about him. I never dated him, I still don’t know why. I guess I was too busy with my own things. I dated other men. I got into other relationships. He stayed single, told me he loved me. I told him I loved him too. This went on for two years. When I was 17, I messaged him after a long gap of not talking. He told me he was being discharged and sent to rehab because he had attempted suicide and drank too much. I cried that night. My prom night I was all alone at a table, mourning my darling Marine. months later, when I turned 18 and ran away from home, I talked to him again. I asked how rehab went. He made it through but relapsed anyway. He had no more emotions. Military life, being on a Japanese base for years had drained him of all of his passion. He was in California, about 8 hours away from me. We talked about moving in together, having a beautiful wedding, growing old together. I loved him. Some distant part of him loved me too. So we talked about it. We had a plan. He would move up to where I was living, get a job, live in an apartment with me until I went to boot camp since I had enlisted, too. Then he would move back home to Texas, a couple hours away from my base. We would get married. But one day he blocked my facebook. He blocked my phone number. He ignored my Skype. I got really angry because I had been a day away from finally telling my family about him… and I went on a date with another man. I had such a good time, and he was so charming. Momentarily, I forgot about my Marine. We got engaged after 6 days. We almost got married. And when my Marine called the next month, I told him I wanted nothing to do with him. He replied, “Okay, sweetie. Maybe in another life” and I felt my heart sink.

It is now a year ago that that happened. I found my way back to talking to my Marine. My fiance does not know. We have no s** life. He says very mean things to me and likes to pinch my skin. He does not know anything about me, still. Every night I imagine that my Marine is the one in bed with me. Every morning I imagine it is him I am wishing a good day at work for. With every kiss I die more inside, waiting for the day that my Marine is healed enough that he will love me again.

This is not the story of a wishful thinker. He loved me. I loved him. We were made for each other. It was terrible circumstance and overwhelming mental illness in both of us that tore us apart. And now he, an alcoholic depressed ex-marine and I, an abused bipolar, are looking to find ourselves with all our might.

I do not know why I chose to write this. All I know is that I yearn for him with everything in me.

I love you, Christopher.