I'd walked away many times before and never looked back. I didn't want to see her standing at the open door watching, the curtains move slightly as she peered from within. I walked away. It was done - I was gone and knew I may not return. Deployments were like that.
I didn't dwell upon it usually, I couldn't operate effectively if I focused upon things outside of my control. I had a job and thinking about what could happen to me just got in the way. So I walked away and accepted that it may be the last time I'd see her. My life depended on it.
I found the hardest part was leading up to that moment I'd step out the door; making sure everything was in order, that she knew what to do if the worst happened or if I came back different. We said our goodbye's the night before. She was brave, knew what to say and when to say nothing. She was fierce - a true warrior - and her battle was often worse than mine: The uncertainty, fear, lack of information, calls cut off and not returned for weeks, never knowing where I was...Through it all she kept our lives moving forward on the pittance I earned never knowing if she'd see me again.
It was simple for me. Deployment was tougher on those left behind. She was more courageous than I could ever be. All I had to do was give and take orders and achieve the mission day by day; Live or die.
It wasn't that simple in reality though; there were far worse things than dying. I tried not to think about it in the field and largely succeeded however she attacked it head on.
We talked about the possibility of injury: Physical, emotional and moral. She cried of course but through the tears found the strength and conviction to understand it, plan around it and ensure we would survive that battle should it begin. I was flippant at first; it won't happen to me, I'm too good. But I knew I was wrong and she told me so. We argued about that a few times; she won, and we talked it through to resolution each time.
Looking back I believe we had things as squared away as possible. She knew what to do should I not return or return a different man. She hated the need for it and, at times, me for leaving, but like the warrior she was accepted what may come and simply operated - coped as best she could knowing what may come.
I walked away many times before; never looked back. I didn't want to see her standing at the open door watching, or the curtains move slightly as she watched me walk away...But this time was different. This was the last time I'd walk away. I hadn't told her prior to me leaving - a soldiers superstition - nonsensical but real nonetheless.
On the work up, the months of training for deployment, I decided I'd done my part - made the difference I felt I needed to make. I wasn't cynical or frustrated with the government like some others, that came later.
I loved the military...No, I loved those to left and right of me; my brothers. I loved the fact they would die for me and I for them should the need arise; it's something one has to experience to understand. I loved that the military gave me the chance to dance with the devil besides men such as those; heroes all.
I knew it was the right time though. I wasn't afraid of dying, I'd dealt with that demon years earlier; I was afraid though. My fear was not having the chance to spend my life repaying the debt I owed that woman back home.
We were due to fly out in the morning. I was thinking about the deployment, reading reports from the unit we were replacing and trying not to think about that squeaky floorboard I'd not had the chance to fix and her apple pie when my phone buzzed. It was her. I picked up the phone and looked at the two words on the screen and knew my time was over. Come home.
Coming home after a nine-month deployment was always confusing; one day I'm scanning for IED's and shooters in a foreign place the next watching society play out in all it's excess back home. It made me angry seeing society continue so oblivious to the world I'd left and what happened there. I was glad to be home...But missed the simplicity of deployment. She made it better though and from that moment I saw her the world seemed to melt away - I looked into her eyes and was happily lost and completely where I needed to be. Home.
I fixed that squeaky floorboard a few weeks later. She sat at the kitchen table as I worked; right leg bent and foot tucked under her left thigh. It was distracting; the cut-off denim shorts seemed (pleasingly) shorter than usual, her camo-print bikini top and messy hair tumbling down her left shoulder completed the perfection. You're so handy you know, she'd said; it made me feel good. We ate apple pie later; I'd kill for her apple pie.
That's when I told her I was leaving, not home, the military. I'd wanted to wait until my papers came through which had happened the day earlier. She cried.
The next couple of months were a blur but it was like I could see so clearly all of a sudden; Oddly, I'd found the same clarity and presence of mind on the battlefield. My mission was different now though.
In those months I ended my time with the military and had a job lined up with her father who owned a small hardware store. He employed me as the manager so he could back off a little, but stayed on to help - I didn't know what I was doing, but knew I'd work it out. Everything seemed brand new, or maybe I just looked at things through new eyes. She was there with me the whole time reluctant to leave my side...It was like life started over.
Sometimes the darkness takes me; it starts at the edges, a creeping shadow, and blocks the light. No, it takes the light. At times I drown in its depths. I see faces, hear voices and sometimes it's my own face and voice - Screaming. I have trouble sleeping; there's little comfort there - it's in dreams where my past confronts me - and when I wake there's little respite when the shadow falls. I think I could take it if it was just dreams but the realities I faced on deployment are still my reality - The fight continues.
She knows. Knows what to say and when not to say a thing; it's difficult for her though she doesn't understand sometimes so makes it up as she goes. I'm...Well, I'm sometimes not easy to deal with. She's a fighter though, a warrior. She holds onto me fiercely, keeps me calm, soothes me and refuses to give up the fight. She calls those moments her deployments and fuck how she fights!
I told her once that at these times I feel like I'm outside of myself, two people at the same time and I don't know which one is the true me or which is real and which the shadow; Both hold guns - one points outwardly and the other at myself. She didn't like that and I don't blame her, but that's how I feel sometimes.
I push back though, quitting has never been my style, and she helps me. Life started over for us and whilst it's different it's still life and is ours to own. It's not always light and not always dark. The places I've been, the things I've done and who this girl and I are now is just part of the journey and it's one we take together hand in hand, heart in heart.
[A fiction]
Design and create your ideal life, don't live it by default - Tomorrow isn't promised so be humble and kind
Discord: galenkp#9209
The image is my own
