Found this, wrote it 2 years ago.
An old beau and I have quite the story.
We thought once, we'd write it.
Best seller material, certainly.

Here's what I started.

All is quiet, and all is dark, save for the glow of the vibrant moon leaking in through the windows on either side of the chamber of which a group of privates call home. The weak blue light of the night is aided by the pocket flashlight of the belly-down recruit scribbling words onto paper on his skinny bed in the barrack.

            “Le, I doubt I’ll ever give this to you just like the letters you said you wrote but never sent. Where to start.”

He signs the letter that will never go anywhere “-can’t wait to see your smile again, Bri”

She sat, belly-down, on her queen size bed, complete with pillows for miles and two bedspreads, recounting ever detail of the day, just as she has since the second he left. She wrote in earnest, in honesty – because she knew she would never let him see this journal. It was freeing and relaxing to know that she could finally be honest with someone. Finally let her feelings be released without fear of judgement, consequence or reprimand.

“I’m so lame I’m like obsessive. Once you were actually gone, I’ve never missed or wanted anything so badly in my life.”