15 Letters

Chapter 1 (Diary)

20. 07. 22

I'm going to miss waking up in the morning to the smell of freshly brewed tamaryokucha, a type of green tea. Will always wakes up earlier than me, somehow, and he boils some water right when he wakes up. Coffee for him, tea for me. I don't want to get dependant on such high levels of caffeine daily, and I hate the bitterness of the brown grounds. Besides, tamaryokucha is my favorite drink - I love its aftertaste, and it has many health benefits. When I finally get up, and the green tea has usually been steeping on the counter for several minutes. I wrap my hands around the round green bamboo cup and drink it sitting on the counter. Will drinks it leaning against the kitchen island, opposite, of me. Our best conversation occurs then, when all else is quiet. It's kind of our morning ritual.

One that won't exist, after tomorrow. An act as simple as boiling water is going to be so alien to me, now that I'm so used to Will always doing it.

Will will (no pun intended) be leaving first thing tomorrow morning. He's being deployed to some country. He told me when he got the assignment, of course, but geography was never my forte, and my mind never remembers the most important things. I hope he won't be gone long. More than that, though, I'll be praying that he doesn't come back in a box. It's what I dread above all else.

Putting the dark thoughts aside, now, I'd like to introduce this journal and it's purpose. Yes; it's a journal, not a diary, since I will be writing my feelings into these pages. Also, I may not be consistent with this little book. I probably won't be able to write everyday, and my entries may be very random. As such, this beautiful packet of pages should be classified as a journal and not a diary.

Now, to begin the actual journalling stuff, I'll tell you about my day. Despite the subconscious shadow of Will's approaching departure constantly looming above me, I've had no trouble having a wonderful day.

Will and I have seasonal passes to SeaWorld, since it's one of my favorite places, and we decided to go there for our last full day together. We sat in the wet zone for the Shamu show and got soaked, and I bought a wooden whale tail necklace for Will. I remember that I always wanted to be called up and given one, when I was younger. They stopped that tradition a decade ago, though. After that, we watched all the other shows, going on rides in between. The air lift ride, where you ride in a car above the Mission Bay, was amazing. I love high-up places, where the air is cold and crisp through your hair. Will and I didn't really say anything during that ride, just snuggled into each other and enjoyed the view. Sometimes silence is the best communicator, though.

We ate dinner at a small cafe outside of the park, and returned for the fireworks. Honestly, I personally don't like fireworks, but I watch them because I know Will loves them. To me, fireworks are star wannabes. They're jealous of the stars forever twinkling in the sky, and so they burn flashy and bright and loud to try and outshine them. Their lives are short and they burn out quickly, though, while the stars stay up there, not always visible, but constantly comforting us from the heavens. However, I do like how the light from the fireworks reflects off of people's eyes, and makes them come alive.

After the fireworks, Will and I stopped by a souvenir shop and checked out the new merchandise. Will saw me eyeing a notebook, and when we got into the car, he handed it to me. He'd excused himself to go to the restroom right when we were at the gates; he must've bought it then. It's a beautiful notebook, with hand-sewn coptic stitch binding that lays perfectly flat and a soft brown leather cover with the Shamu tail imprinted on it. This is the book I'm currently writing in, with the fountain pen my brother gifted me. Tomorrow Will will leave. Until then, I'll be keeping in touch with him through this journal.