Dear Jennifer,
I hope you're going okay. I know it's been a huge move for you, to go from Perth to space cadet school. And I know it's not just the physical move. You've got new people, a new mix of cultures, and the training is hard. You probably even have to learn to speak American English, right? All zees and things, and weird winter sports with moose on ice skates dancing with Beyonce during the half-time break or whatever.
Just don't forget how to swear Australian style, okay? Remember that stuff I taught you from the mines, and they'll learn to respect you. Or they'll kick you off the program, but at least you'll have been
authentic
.
Hey, I'm writing to say... I know you want us to be a bit chill while you're doing this. That's totally okay. But I also want to say that nothing's changed from my side, so even though we're going to be a bit less hands-on, I would still like to be in a
relationship
.
I'd like to write to you like people used to when they wrote paper letters, instead of chat messages. I'll try and put something of substance in what I write. I guess I'll need to acquire some substance to put into the letters first! Even if you don't have time to write back, I'd love you to take some of my electrons with you when you go up, if they let you have some electronic file space in your baggage allowance.
Is that okay if I write to you in that way? I want to respect your space while you're in space. But I also want to
make love
to you the old-fashioned way, with ideas and letters describing how I adore you. We already know about how we work physically together, I think, but maybe this is an opportunity?
I'd particularly like to you take the next paragraph into space. Copy and paste if they are enforcing a character limit. Here it is:
I love you to the Moon and back.
Yours most sincerely, Mark
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Dear Mark,
You are such a sweetie. Thank you so much for your lovely letter. I will try and write back in the same way. You're right: it feels like there's more chance to write something of substance if we are making the effort to write letters instead of chat.
I can't promise to write back every time. There is so much to learn here. It's not their English or driving on the other side of the road: it's the intensity of the training. All the science stuff is fine and I have to remember that that's why I'm doing this. I know my field really well, and I just have to make sure that I can do it in space as well as I can do it on the Earth.
As for you acquiring substance... false modesty does not become you. I knew from the moment I saw that you could write your own name without moving your lips that you were better than the average fly-in fly-out worker, at least in my experience. And when your eyes completely failed to glaze over after you asked me about my work... you had my attention.
To the Moon and back? I'm not going that far! But I guess it's about the maximum that love can extend, isn't it? No humans have been further apart physically than the Moon astronauts and their spouses.
Here's a fun fact: There were thirty married astronauts during the Gemini and Apollo programs. The astronaut wives were reality stars in their own right, loyally supporting their men while they blasted into space in the knowledge that they could die alone. But did you know that all but seven marriages ended in divorce? It seems like loving somebody to the Moon and back isn't that easy.
Forgive me for being so cautious about our relationship, but I can't get that stat out of my mind. We're both fly-in, fly-out, even if I'm going a bit more vertical than you. Let's just see how we go, hey? But don't stop writing! I know, I want to have my cake and eat it too. And I'm on a strict diet, which doesn't help when there's temptation all around me. I hope that our relationship is strong enough for me to mention that some of my fellow trainees are rather hot. I've been fending off a bit of attention from them, so make sure that you
don't
forget to write.
I've just realised what the Parable of the Sower is really about! All those virile men trying to scatter their seed...
All of my (carefully rationed) love,
Jenny
PS I
know
you watch the Superbowl. Don't pretend you're not literate in sports from 50 different countries. Particularly when the Eagles are playing as poorly as they are and you can't stand to watch Australian Rules Footy.
PPS I'm taking it easy on the swearing for now. Some of them are a bit fragile that way.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Dear Jennifer,
Thank you so much for your last letter. I shall treasure it and keep it close to my heart. I understand that, like the great explorers of old, you are required to carefully ration your love, so that you have some to spare for every port that you land in.
My biblical knowledge is a bit rusty, but I
don't
think that the Parable of the Sower is about horny moon boys. But regardless of that, please just remember that those moon-boys just think that your accent is exotic. That's really why they want to fill you with their seed. They don't even know how to make you a decent cooked breakfast the next morning. As I hope you remember, I do.
You are so romantic with those divorce statistics! As you know, it's very much like that with the mines. But people do make it work. From what I've seen, it's the ones who have a bit of self-discipline who have a better chance of their marriage surviving. And who help out with the practical things as well, of course. While they're up here, they know that some of their income needs to go to help with cleaning and childcare, not just chocolates and flowers. And when they're home, they need to pitch in and respect the systems that their partners have set up. And even then, of course there are physical needs. It can get lonely at each end. Some partners promise to be faithful no matter what. Some just promise to be truthful. I'm not quite sure what I think about that. But I know that relationships can work.
I love you to the Moon and back.
I think that declarations of love can be a bit like declarations of "Happy Christmas", or "Happy Birthday". If we are naïve and think that every day is like Christmas and that life is full of chanting, happy angels telling us how good we look and showering us with affection, those phrases are meaningless. But if we understand that life is full of pain, and that unbridled joy is the exception rather than the rule, then our love has more meaning. I love you
despite
your physical distance from me or the way your breath smells in the morning when we share a bed, not because I think that life is perfect. I love you even though I can't be sure that some of those moon boys haven't also smelt your breath in the morning. I want to be your destination regardless of your journey.
Do you know that Chris Rea song, "Driving Home for Christmas?" I guess it's a very English Christmas song, and it's full of happy bells and feelings. But if you read up on Chris Rea, he has lived much of his recent life in intense physical pain. And his blues recordings reflect that. That stupid song is all over the radio every year, but it's not
his
everyday experience: it's about the dream of a rare good day with the people who are most important to him when life is doing its worst. If you fell into bed with a moon boy, that would be a kick in the guts, but I wouldn't be giving up that easily on our happy ending.
I listen to a lot of blues here. Chris plays a mean slide guitar, and on a bad day, that guitar sings my feelings more than I could ever write down.
When do you blast off? I'm preparing some blasting myself at the moment, but I might tell you more about that next time.
Blasting some love towards you right now,
Mark
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Dear Jennifer,
I know you said that you wouldn't be able to reply every time, and also said to keep writing. So I want to reassure you that I haven't taken offence at your silence. But I hope that you're okay.
I said that I would tell you more about the blasting. My blasting, not yours. As you know, the project that I'm working on at the moment is an open pit mine. We mine a range of stuff, some of which helps people get into space. So I guess I'm a contributor to my own misfortune in having you so far away?
Anyway, to access the deposits we use the drill and blast technique. We drill a pattern of holes in the surface, and detonate explosives in those holes to make a bigger hole and get the ores we want. Simple, right? Well, it's not really. It's best described as an inexact science. We can do holes in various patterns to try and minimise the explosives used, the ore recovered, the fracturing of the rocks, the dilution of the ore by things we don't want, and so on. And obviously we don't want to blow up things that we're not allowed to. Like priceless 50,000 year old rock paintings for example. We hardly ever do that.
I'm really good at drill and blast, and because of that, I'm in charge of the blasting strategy here, for the first time in my young career. It's kind of fun, reading the landscape, applying our knowledge and science as best we can, and then hitting the trigger to blow shit up. But of course it comes with consequences as well, because if I get it consistently wrong, then I'm damaging valuable ores and affecting the profitability of the mine. So I've had to learn care and restraint as well as trusting my knowledge. With great power comes great responsibility. And a lot of paperwork.
Still, I want to say that if at any stage you need a precise series of controlled dynamite explosions to propel you into orbit, I'm your guy. It's not just rocket science, after all, it's mining engineering. Funny how things overlap.
One of the things that I've learned is that every few seconds of adrenaline requires a massive amount of preparation. I know you're working so hard preparing for your mission. And of course I want that to go really well and for you to come back safely. So it's okay if you don't write back. But I hope you know:
I love you to the Moon and back.
Come home safely, Jennifer. And not just for my sake, obviously.
All my explosive rocket love, Mark.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Dearest Mark,
I'm so sorry that I haven't replied for a couple of weeks now. Thank you for your letters. I have so many things to say, but it's been incredibly hard to get the head-space to say them properly. Here are some of the headlines. Treat them like incoming missiles if you like, but I hope they don't spoil your blast patterns.
- The launch is next Thursday!
- The moon-boys have sure kept trying, but have failed. So far.
- I have read, and appreciate, your musings about long-distance relationships. I'm not eloquent enough to respond yet. I will have a bit to say when I do, so please bear with me.
