The Soldier's Journal

||Entry Forty-One||

August 27th, 1957

I haven't written in this old thing since July. I don't even feel like apologizing for it anymore, truthfully. They released me from the psych ward, only about a week after I was thrown in there. I never ended up going to the rehab center; I hung around my pick of women, and I barely even attempted to reach out to Eleanor, Rebecca, or Emily.

Speakin' of them, they all went on vacation earlier in August - I saw that as an opportunity to swing by their house and pick up some things that belonged to me. Anna, my temporary companion, walked around the side of the house with her son; for whatever reason, is even unknown to me. I guess she just did it for the hell of it.

I rummaged through my truck for change. I'm quite scarce on money right now. I'm stayin' with Anna, simply for a roof over my head and some food in my mouth - not to mention, she's not exactly what you'd consider "sober," either, which is convenient for me and my own habits. I dug through an old box that had also been thrown in the bed of my truck.

The box was wooden with an American flag on it. Partially the reason for me being able to remember it so vividly, is the fact that Rebecca bought it for me. I always did look forward to Rebecca's gifts. It never mattered to me how much they cost or where she got them from - she always put as much thought into them as humanly, even inhumanly, possible.

This particular box contained some old cards from Emily and Eleanor, photographs, and seashells I'd collected along the beach with the woman I once considered my soulmate. Who have I got to lie to at this point? If I'm choosin' honesty, I'd still consider Mrs.- or, I should say Ms., now, Eleanor Francis my soulmate - and, I never did believe in those things. That is, of course, until I happened to meet mine.

I know I'm not her soulmate. Not even the cruelest human would deserve me as a soulmate. I don't even think I have a soul anymore. Emily believes a person can have multiple soulmates, in the sense that, not all of them are romantically intertwined with one another. She said somethin' along the lines of "the soul can long for that of another's, simply because it makes their own inner self beam with happiness."

Whether or not I believe that, is debatable. She always did get in strange, random bursts of philosophy, if I even worded that right. I remember being on the battlefield and askin' Harris and Felix if I'd spelled or said somethin' right. They've probably forgotten about me by now. Even soldiers who've seen the most gruesome scenes imaginable, can't even bare the sight of me.

I did end up visiting Eleanor, Rebecca, and Emily just the other day. Emily barely spoke a single sentence to me, Eleanor was relatively cordial most of the time, and Rebecca was just as friendly as she could be. Although, Emily had a lot more to say during our telephone call.

I've only ever heard one swear word come out of her mouth, and she never did it again. Until that one call. The question isn't "what did she say?" But instead, what didn't she say. I know I've made her angry, I know I've hurt her, so I suppose I probably deserved that - but, in my eyes, she's still that little four year old clinging onto Eleanor for dear life.

Emily's tone got softer when she tried explaining to me that she misses her dad, not the man I've turned into. She said she misses the man that would have tea parties with her and her stuffed animals, and move her around in the chair so she could pretend she was drivin' a car. She reminded me of how I used to carry a pink lunchbox with princess stickers on it, just because that's what she wanted.

But, then she also reminded me that I've changed. Emily, who used to call me her own, personal Superman, made it clear she doesn't miss who I've turned into. The same little Emily that used to curl up beside me and watch whatever sport was on the television, even though she didn't understand it, just so she could spend time with me, plainly told me she doesn't want me around her if I don't go back to how I used to be.

The last thing she said to me before hangin' up, was "goodnight, sweet dreams, see you in the mornin', love you, daddy," the same way she used to every night before goin' to sleep. It reminded me that we created that sayin' after her grandpa passed away. I made sure to always include "see you in the morning," because, although she didn't know he'd committed suicide, I wanted it to be known that I could never abandon her like that.

Now, look at me. I've barely spoken to her at all since I left, each time, I left without a goodbye or an explanation, I've rarely tried to see her, and I attempted to take my life, the same way her grandfather did. Maybe I jinxed myself with that saying.

I do have a sliver of decent news for this entry. I left yesterday for Nashville, Tennessee. No, not to pursue a career in country music, although, I could succeed. I'm here for rehab. I did want to say goodbye to Emily, even Eleanor and Rebecca. But, Molly overheard me talkin' on the telephone to Emily and Eleanor, and tightly pulled the reigns.

She doesn't want me goin' over there anymore, no matter the reason. And, I know she loves me, so, I know it's for good reason. It means that I won't be able to see Emily, but she's welcome to visit us, although, I doubt Eleanor would allow it. I doubt Emily would even want to visit. Whatever Molly's reasoning is, I know it's nothing malicious. I know she'd want me to at least have a bond with Emily, she's just not fond on me goin' to their house, or callin', or writin'. But, you have to make those types of sacrifices, right?

I told Eleanor I'd gotten sick, and that's why I was unable to go say goodbye. I ended up askin' if I could swing by the house in the mornin' on the way to Tennessee, but she quickly shut that idea down. The three women I once lived with, were always quick to catch on to my lies. Eleanor informed me that once Emily heard I wasn't goin' to be able to tell her goodbye, she made a request for Eleanor to relay a message.

"Emily says, that if you're with Molly, don't bother to show up tomorrow." This seemed like an ultimatum, or, to me, at least. Eleanor explained to me that, it wasn't because Emily hates me, although, I know she does - but, rather because Emily doesn't want her father to build a life with the woman that ruined her family.

It seemed like I'd have to choose between having any sort of bond, or even just simple communication with my daughter, or be with Molly, one of the women I'd had an affair with. On one hand, Emily's my child, and I've raised her since she was very young. On the other hand, Molly loves me - sure, she can be controlling, but what does that really matter?

Emily still needs a father. Every little girl deserves to have their dad walk them down the aisle, clap as loudly as possible at her graduation, secretly shed a tear when he sees her in her prom dress, teach her how to drive, help her unpack for college, honestly, I could go on. No little girl should have to grow up without that.

And, I don't want to hurt Emily, nor do I want to abandon her, all over again. We've started talking a little bit more, recently. It would be wrong for me to throw all of that away, again, after getting her little hopes up that maybe, just maybe, she could get her dad back in her life. I know it'd hurt to just let all of that past hurt, scab over, only to pick the scab off and let the wound start bleedin' again, only for a woman.

But, in the end, I chose Molly.