Dearest J

My dearest darling,

I'm sitting here at my desk, thinking about you.  You will be back in seven weeks.  Will war have changed you?  I wonder.  Who will be returning to me?

I tried to mail you a card or a letter each week you were gone.  I hope you found it more thoughtful than annoying.  From September, when I dropped you off with all your gear on base, until now, I have been looking forward to your homecoming.  It seemed as though you would be gone for an eternity, and seven weeks still feels like an eternity now.   How could I possibly have missed you this much, and when will my heart stop missing you?  I am so anxious to see you again.  I am so excited at the thought of putting my arms around you and feeling the weight of your chest against me.  Have you been missing me?

I remember the time a few years ago when you called me on a Friday night at 2:30am.  You asked what I was doing, which was a strange question, but you told me to stay put because you were on your way to see me.  I held my breath for those 4 hours until I felt the warmth of your skin next to mine.  I remember your last words to me on Sunday night when you left me was that you were being called and we wouldn't be able to see each other for awhile.  How wise you were then not to tell me until you were leaving.  If you had told me sooner, I know I would have spent our days together crying.  It didn't stop my heart from breaking or my blood from running cold at that moment.

I drove down to your place on the first Sunday after you went away.  It was so strange and surreal to be there without you.  I needed to feel the closeness of you.  I wanted so much to open the door and see you sitting on the sofa, smiling at me with that twinkle in your blue eyes.  I woke up that morning noting the absence of your arms around me, yet surrounded by the familiar sweet smell of the sheets and the smell of you.  Being surrounded by you was exactly what I wanted.  Being surrounded by you was almost more than I could bear.

Seven weeks my darling.  Return to me.  All I can do is continue to move through my days until you are safe.  If I close my eyes and dream, I can taste the salt of your skin mixed with the salt of my tears on the day you come home to me.

always
k