You’re gone. 3 Years later my heart still breaks as if it were just yesterday. You died in Afghanistan. I still hold all those memories so close- sights, smells and scenes play out over and over that never fade and never weaken. Nervously holding hands, our last kiss in the airport…The beautiful summer we spent everyday together. Sitting underneath the stars, sharing silence, yet feeling so whole. Your eyes welled as you told me you loved me. I felt safe in your arms. You made me feel complete. The thought of that day, sitting next to you in that big pick up truck and realizing that I was so deeply in love with you, still sends shivers down my spine. I miss you so god damn much. I cry, and I beg- Please come back to me, please come home. But I am alone. Your dog tags, our pictures, the diamond ring. They’re all put away, I cant even look at them with out falling apart.
3 Years ago, you died in Afghanistan. You came home, living, breathing…But I have to tell myself you’re dead. Your heart decomposed, your compassion withered, your soul deteriorated. The sparkle in your eyes was gone. You abused me and your family- physically, emotionally, verbally. We begged and begged and pleaded with tears in our eyes. You refused the help. We tried. We tried so hard. God knows we fucking tried.
Please come back to me. I’ll wait for you. “Forever and always”.