The Charlotte Chronicles (Jackson Boys 1)

Strong men break down in BUD/S but not me. Not because I’m more brave or strong or capable than the guy standing next to me or the guy at the end of the line, but because I’ve learned that focusing on the moment allows me to forget about the past. Under the water and bound like a pig is no big deal. Carrying a boat on my head? No problem. Lying on the beach with the tide crashing over my head, replicating the sensation of drowning repeatedly? A day with kittens. Thinking about you? More painful than a knife to the gut. So I don’t think about you. I push you aside. I’m weak, you see, so much weaker than you.

If I start thinking about you, I start missing you, and then I want to leave. Not only do I want to leave, I want to abandon everyone here. Screw AWOL. Who cares if I serve time in the brig so long as I can see you? But then the other memories creep in. The ones where I almost killed you by hiding your sickness from your parents. The ones where I was stupid and careless and drank too much while you were gone. The ones where I did kill your spirit by allowing myself to be videotaped with two girls.

In my sane moments, and I don’t have many of those, I know that others would refer to this as “victim blaming.” But it’s not so much that those chicks violated me, but that I allowed myself to be used as a weapon against you. That’s what gets me the most.

I know you were hurt, and I didn’t respond right. I guess I’d hoped if I ignored it that it would go away. When I ran away to the Navy, I tried to bury my past by becoming the best sailor they could craft. Maybe I’ve achieved that. Maybe I haven’t. I don’t feel like a success because I’ll never be complete without you.

It killed me not to answer your letters. At first, I didn’t write because I thought you would move on, find someone else to make you happy, but whenever your letters mentioned another male fondly, I went crazy in my head. Sorry about Paul. I’m sure he was a nice guy. I’m glad he helped you learn to weld. Sorry I used Nick to keep track of you.

I was so messed up, Charlotte. And I can’t say that I’m not messed up now, only that I can’t function without you.

What I realized a few months ago, while facing down another brave woman, was that I didn’t give you enough credit. I was utterly and inexplicably selfish. But I sold myself on the idea that everything I did was for you. I completely bought into this lie. It became my life.

I stayed away for your sake.

I was silent for your sake.

I broke it off for your sake.

But really it was for me. I didn’t write back because it was easier to pretend like you and I didn’t have feelings and promises. I charged back in whenever I felt my position was threatened. When the time came for me to return to you, I lied to both of us that it was better for us to be apart.

I told myself that you needed protecting and that I had failed in that position. I couldn’t keep you from getting ill. I couldn’t keep you from moving to Switzerland. I couldn’t keep the girls off of me. I couldn’t do any of these things. Worse, when I became a sailor and then a SEAL, I had more failures than successes. More people died than we saved. More people were killed than rescued. I was worthless as a protector. I was a machine, nothing more. Trained to aim, shoot, fire, reload. Again and again.

I told myself you deserved better than me because I was merely a bunch of broken bits called man. I underestimated your ability to love, your ability to cope. I took the decision from you. Made it for you like I was better, smarter, wiser.

I am none of those things.

Perhaps I knew this and hid fearing that you would see what kind of frail, jacked product you were getting in return.

This letter is a mess of words, a jumble of thoughts. Maybe there’s not a coherent sentence in the above paragraphs. There is only one thing you need to know. I have never stopped loving you. You have always been first in my heart even when my actions didn’t convey that message.

I come to you, on my knees, beseeching you for forgiveness to give me one more chance to show you that I am a man worthy of your heart. I will spend the rest of my days proving to you with my body, with my heart that I am the Nathan of the Charlotte and Nathan that we were meant to be.