Mar. 12

Dear Journal,

Bryce asked me out to a nearby bar. He says it’s one of the few local places he hasn’t tried yet because there’s nothing worse than drinking alone. I wonder why he wants to try it with me of all places. There are plenty of other men here, all of which who would be willing to go anywhere with him. They like him well enough. More than well enough.

I’m just… In comparison, I’m not as great. I don’t talk as much. I’m not as strong. I’m not as ambitious. I’m not the most perfect addition to the family these men have become. I don’t fit in as well, not yet. It’s as if the puzzle has no place for me at the moment. I’ll get there one day. I am getting there, just slower than everyone else.

Maybe that’s why Bryce’s with me. Maybe I need his help to mold myself into the perfect piece. After all, he’s amazing. He’s everything I could hope to be and more. Maybe I could learn how to glow in the same way he does, if only for a few moments at a time.

We’re meant to leave in a few hours, but I have to stop myself from fussing over my appearance. Bryce’s in the bunk next to mine. His eyes are closed, and his head is resting on his arms. His legs are slightly bent. Bryce’s tall, and it’s difficult for him to be comfortable in the beds here. 

He doesn’t notice me glancing over at him, at least I don’t think he does. He hasn’t moved. Is he asleep? It’s not impossible. Soldiers can basically sleep anywhere. He looks so peaceful, so content. It’s damn near impossible to be content here.

I’ve been staring at this page for an hour. Maybe more. I haven’t been writing. I’ve just been…Bryce, I’ve been thinking about Bryce. Maybe I’ve been glancing at him more than I should. I’ve begun to think that I should stop, that maybe I should control myself, and I’ve begun to wonder: What exactly am I controlling? What is this emotion that Bryce evokes from the depths of my soul? 

I think I know, and I know I can’t talk about that. I certainly know those are feelings that would never precipitate in another man’s heart, not in this world, and especially not Bryce’s. Bryce could never lo—Bryce could never feel that way about me.

I should go.

-Adrian