Gwen, she’d been the only girl I ever cared about. It was impossible not to make a comparison. Not that I compared Gwen to Aisha; but I compared how I felt about Gwen to how I’d felt about Aisha. The feelings were uncomfortably similar.
I was so bothered by this that I did something I almost never did: I talked to my brothers—I mean, really talk to them.
“It’s starting again,” I said.
“What’s starting again?” asked Taylor.
I tapped my chest. “My heart. I’m having feelings.”
“Feelings for Gwen?” asked Travis.
I nodded.
“That’s a good thing,” said Taylor. “It’s good and natural. I have feelings for her.” He motioned to Travis. “So does Travis; he has feelings for her. It’s normal.”
Travis nodded.
I said nothing.
“This has you worried?” asked Taylor.
I nodded.
“Is it the sharing?” asked Travis. “Are you feeling jealousy?”
I shook my head. “I don’t think so. No. No, I don’t feel jealousy. I feel… dread.”
“Dread?” They said in unison.
I stood, put my hands on my head and paced. “I’m feeling exactly like how I felt before I lost Aisha.”
“But,—” Taylor started.
“I don’t know,” I interrupted. “I feel like something terrible is about to happen. I feel great, but at the same time, I’ve felt this way before.” The volume in my voice rose with each frantically uttered sentence. “It’s starting again. It’s all happening again.”
Travis put a hand on my shoulder. “Tristan, nothing terrible’s going to happen.”
I snapped at him. “You don’t know that.”
I wasn’t the only one struggling with these feelings. One by one, the rest of the squad started opening up to me. The rest of the squad expressed similar feelings: dread, doubt, excitement, lust. I wasn’t crazy. Or maybe I was, but I wasn’t the only one. We were all feeling a bit crazy for Gwen, crazy and concerned. These contradicting feelings were further exacerbated when we were given the date of our upcoming deployment: November 18th.
The date brought a certain fatalistic mood to the apartment, like we knew it was all going to end, and we knew when, and the day was fast approaching.
Axel called another meeting.
“Gentlemen, we’re Marines,” he started, pacing up and down like a drill sergeant. “We abide by a code.”
He pointed to Nolan. “Nolan, what is our code?”
Nolan frowned. “To respect human dignity; to have respect and concern for each other.”
Axel made an about-face. “And we all have respect and concern for Gwen, do we not?”
Nobody said anything. Axel turned to us, surprised.
Santiago, lying slouched on the couch, said, “Is this a meeting or a drill? Because if it’s a drill, I’m out of here. I’ve had enough of those for the day.”
Axel put his hands in the air, open palms out. “I don’t know, guys. I’m trying. We’re deploying soon. We need to act in one mind, in one spirit. I thought a meeting where we could set out some ground rules would be helpful.”
“A meeting is helpful,” said Elijah. “So why don’t you stop acting like a drill sergeant and take a seat so we can start the meeting?”
Axel took a seat then nobody said anything for a while. Finally, I broke the silence. “Rule number one,” I said, “Travis is the only one to send her texts; all communication has to go through Travis.”
“And if Travis wants to send her a text from him,” said Santiago, “Someone else needs to be there with him.”
“Why’s that?” asked Travis.
“No communication should be secret,” said Nolan.
Travis nodded. “Makes sense. Fine by me.”
Another long moment of silence followed before Elijah proposed rule number two: ‘No one can go down to The Bean Counter and see her alone.’ That suggestion was shot down then amended to ‘no one can go out on a date with her alone. But going to The Bean Counter alone was allowed.’
The meeting carried on like this for the better part of an hour. In the end, we’d set out ground rules that basically spelled out the way we’d already been acting. But at least it was good to have it spelled out, to alleviate doubt and avoid misunderstanding.
The ground rules were set to avoid misunderstandings, to ensure Gwen was treated with dignity and respect and to prevent any competition or jealousy from coming between us.
However, we didn’t come up with any rules that could prevent any one of us from getting a broken heart. The only rules that could protect me from a broken heart were ‘don’t get involved; don’t care’, and I was tired of living by those rules. I didn’t know how