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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1552738-Walk-Away--His-Story
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Military · #1552738
His perspective walking away.
Don’t think.  If you think, you won’t go through with it.  If you don’t go through with it, you’ll be a coward.  If you’re a coward, she won’t love you anyway.  So what would be the point?

I settled my pack securely on my back and swung my weapon over my shoulder.  This was it.  I pulled her close, hoping she wouldn’t cry; hoping she would.  She was soft against me and I reveled in it, knowing that this gentleness would be the last I’d feel for a long time.  The sling of my weapon was between our bodies and I nearly laughed at how unintentionally symbolic it was.  I thought she’d see the humor in it after the pain had eased.  I tried to file it away in my mind.

She settled her head in the crook of my shoulder and casually kissed my neck every once in a while.  I could feel the wetness from her tears and pulled back to look at her.  That was a mistake.  I could feel the burning in my throat from tears that I’d never allow to surface and quickly pulled her back.  It was hard to bear that sadness when I knew I was the cause.

Time. 

I walked.  I wasn’t alone.  I was everywhere at the moment.  The soldier.  Walking away from family, wives, children … life.  Keep walking and suck it up, I told myself.  Keep walking and don’t turn around.  Don’t willingly ask for that.  It’s time to man up and do my job.

Just one more look.  I couldn’t help it.  In that one moment I was so proud.  She stood there, strong.  I knew she could have crumpled to the ground or begged and pleaded.  But, she didn’t.  My wife, she just stood there watching.  I saw her mouth move, but there was so much noise.  I knew what she said though and I wish I could’ve shouted back to make sure she knew I loved her too or even waved.  I couldn’t, though, my grasp on my emotions was tenuous and it just wasn’t acceptable for a soldier, on his way to war, to curl up and cry; at least not in front of the bus.  She knew though. 

She was, no is, my best friend, my rock and the best damned wife I will never deserve.

I vowed to prove her fears were unfounded.  I would come home.  I would survive.  My strides were stronger now and I slapped the shoulder of the guy standing next to me as we waited to board the bus.  Damn it, the sand, the camels and the war would not win!

 Walking away: Her Story  (13+)
Pain in staggering amounts ... all for the love of my man.
#1552374 by Marleigh Rose
© Copyright 2009 Marleigh Rose (marleigh.rose at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1552738-Walk-Away--His-Story