Wake up with dried tears on my face again.  A habit lately; and always around 3am.  Lying awake in the slough of the night, with all my better sensibilities on hiatus, covers uncomfortably twisted around my hips and the dog twitching in her sleep.

I think of you, but in this dark time, I don't really believe I'll ever see you.  I can't believe in anything at 3am, with these stiff salt-trails on my cheeks and nothing to reach out to for comfort.

I'm not hungry; I'm not homeless; I'm not unloved.  I know I'm more fortunate than many.  I know you want to be here.  But in the black trough of insomnia, all the joy seems a distant blur, a painting with colors long faded to nothingness.

The most hurtful thing you can say to another person is "I don't believe you."  I can never tell you about this.

And sometimes, in the deeps of the night, that hurts most of all.

 7 November 2007     14:33

Dear Sergeant ---------------,

First and foremost, THANK YOU.  Thanks for being there and for making the rest of us sleep better at night, knowing you're on watch.

OK, now I got that outta the way… Hi!  My name's Doree, and I was given your name by the Adopt-A-Marine program.  Lucky you.  I signed up because 1) what you Marines are doing is so tremendous, and it's such a crummy place to be; and 2) because my man, who is also a Marine, has an MOS that doesn't allow me to write him or send him stuff, and I got tired of feeling impotent.  I'm a graphic artist and I
live near Cape May, New Jersey, in a tiny cottage with a woodstove.

I can't imagine what it's like over there, except for insights gained by reading veteran's stories and watching movies.  But I know how much it sucks to be away from your loved ones and everything you know.  It sucks bigtime.  All I want is to maybe make it a little easier for you and your guys, and to let you know that somebody back home remembers you, admires you, is thinking about and praying for you.

Don't take it the wrong way, but I love you all.  For your courage, and your commitment, and your willingness to lay your lives on the line.

In this box you'll find some things I hope you and your fellas can use.  I'm sure you'll share it with each other.  Wish I could've sent you all iPods, or something else very cool - you so deserve them.  But maybe this will be some help.

Please share this letter with your guys.  I feel like I should take care of you all.  My man is a Sgt. Major, and he's instilled in me, I think, some of the father-feeling he has towards his guys.  I'm sure it's the same for you.

And please write back, when you get the chance.  It would be so great for me to hear from you and your men.  Maybe, then, I wouldn't worry about my guy so much.  I'll be a good penpal, I promise.

Here's my contact info:

blah blah blah....

Please take care of yourself, and be safe.  We who are left behind appreciate you, and miss you, and want you to come home.

Semper Fi!

Doree.

PS  In the box is a one-use digital camera.  I want pics!  Figured this kind would be easiest for you.  I'd love to see your faces…

And this...
As several sightings were made around Washington, D.C., of dragonfly-looking bugs hovering in the air at political events, government agencies were denying that they had released any tiny surveillance robots, according to an October Washington Post investigation. "I look up and I'm like, 'What the hell is that?'" asked a college student at an antiwar rally in Washington. "They looked kind of like dragonflies or little helicopters. But ... those are not insects." Several agencies and private entities admitted to the Post that they were trying to develop such devices, but no one took credit for having them in the air yet. [Washington Post, 10-9-07] 

WTF is the world coming to, I wonder wonder wonder.  And then, I wonder some more....