I am not unhappy. Quite the contrary actually.
I'm ecstatic, with us. With you. I'm not a very
materialistic girl, nor do I consider myself a
"gold-digger" or "moocher," mainly because
you and I seem to split the cost of things in
relatively even plains. Just, I'd like to say, that
I am a little bit jealous of a great friend of mine.
Ever since she has started dating her boyfriend,
she has never not had a flower on her nightstand.
She has small, cheap gifts to hold and remember,
and just things to hold and see and smile at,
when her other half isn't with her.

I still have the seven roses you gave me,
on our seven months. I printed out the words you
wrote, and they're in a box, but I still think I would like
a flower picked from the ground, or a gumball-machine
ring, or a little plastic something, or a mix cd.
And I think I would like you to give me that something,
so that when you are gone, so far away from
where I wish you were,
I could have it, look at it, see it, touch it.
I would like you to give me something, one thing,
small and cheap and silly and what you would consider
for one to throw away. I'll put it in my box, and
take it out when I miss you.

When you're gone for boot camp, I would like something
other then just your picture, to hold.
Something to remind me of that silly time we maybe
got caught in the rain, or got a flat tire, or went to
the beach, or maybe we flew kites, or went to
the aquarium, or just ran errands together.

I remember you for your beautiful words I have in my box,
but I want something other then my journal to remember
the silly things that we have done, and that we will do.

I love you so much.