• Relationships

    by  • August 30, 2010 • Acceptance • 0 Comments

    You’re here. Two weeks of leave. Home from Afghanistan. I’m so proud of you soldier. You have endured so much that I feel no human should have to.

    I can’t believe I’ve been able to see you. After everything we’ve been through. It’s amazing to be able to touch you. To see your eyes, hear your voice and have it be in real life, not over a video. I don’t want you to leave next week. I want you to stay where I am.

    I’m now the ‘other woman’ and not in the way that term is usually used. Unfortunately the divorce hasn’t begun legally and I can’t help timing or situation…but remember that you kissed me. And yes, while I kissed back, you knew I would. You know that I’m tangled up in you. You just do.

    But now I’m realizing that you will be gone for soon. Out of this state and out of my life. Because, where do we go from here, sir? Honestly. I mean…we know it can’t be anything. You’re in the middle of fighting two wars and both home fronts. I can’t expect anything. And you don’t expect anything. I mean….I’m just me to you. And that is great, but I know she’s got the hold on you.

    She’s your wife. I expect it. She might be terrible to you, do horrible things, but I know you still must love her. To be able to look at her without feeling sick. Which is fine. I won’t condemn you for it. But I also can’t put me through that. You know, I would be dumb to do that.

    We are nearing the end of your leave. And your tour over there is up in 6 months. I know that doesn’t change anything. I know where you’ve put me, and I know where I’m staying. But I think I’m coming to terms with it almost.

    When you leave. It will be extremely hard on me. I know it will. I have grown accustom to seeing your face in front of me. To hearing your laugh and listening to you speak. The fear of you dying out there, fighting this war that isn’t going anywhere. Fighting because that’s what you signed up for, keeping your word, but still wondering if it’s actually helping. It makes me sad.

    I watch you get lost in thought and I wonder how you will be when it’s said and done. When your tour is up. I hope you are okay. I know that I will not be the one who will be there for you. I wish I could be. I’ve waited too long to turn away. My time to do that is nearing.

    Anyway, I guess this letter is to tell you that you’re amazing. I love our laughter. I miss you so much. When I said that today, you didn’t reply with the same, so I understand what is going to happen. I already know. I am as prepared as I’ll ever be. It hurts. It really does. But I know, deep in my soul, i know this isn’t what was meant.

    Stay safe…I can’t imagine losing you. You’re such a wonderful person. Don’t shoot, they will shoot back. Lay low and come home please. Too much blood has been shed already, we don’t need more. Try and keep your chin up. Avoid the rocket attacks. Drown out the sirens with prayers. Keep that cross close to your heart and know that you are never alone. The thought of losing you brings tears to my eyes.

    I guess there isn’t much left to say. I know you hate it but I will end it on this note:

    It is what it is. I will always miss you.

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