Journal From a Submariner IX

DATE 06SEP10, TIME 1735
The littlest things in life seem so huge when you’re on a submarine.
I miss being able to listen to music as loud as I want to on a Sunday morning, or just making any noise at all. I got yelled at today because I accidentally dropped a clipboard, I mean the thing weighs a couple ounces and it wasn’t even that loud, it just scared people, and they told me to shut the hell up. I mean come on all the machinery alone makes so much noise if anyone wanted to find us it wouldn’t be that hard. I also miss driving down the road with the windows rolled down feeling the cool air rushing in, and out of the car, and blaring music as loud as possible without ruining the speakers. I can listen to my iPod, on its lowest volume, and only with one ear bud in. I don’t know, but I think people listen to music to drowned out the world sometimes, and here we’re not allowed to do that. I miss the smell of real air; amine is just not cutting it for me anymore. I haven’t had real milk in 3 months, I fucking love milk, but I don’t drink it because dehydrated milk is not good at all. Even the name doesn’t make sense. Dehydrated milk -which means no liquid. Whiskey Tango Foxtrot! That doesn’t even work. What else do I miss? I miss the smell of your armpits, especially when they smell like breakfast. I miss how you fit perfectly under my arm, I miss how your lips feel when there pressed tightly against mine, I miss your morning breath, and I miss you.
The Navy has done a number on me; gave me a steady pay check, a house, a car, but the worst thing it’s done for me is keep me from you. I can’t wait to live a life where I get to go home, and sleep in our bed every night after a hard day’s work. Why must I be so god damn emotional? I hate it! The one thing it’s good for though is writing poems. You are going to enjoy what I am doing for you. Love you, forever and always, love babe.