bring you back to me

  The light breeze and the mild warmth gently craddled me as reality slowly came back. My eye lids fluttered, tears streamed off my face and onto the soft pillow. The distant sound of children playing a few doors down flooded my ears. My hand grasped a small familiar object, i peered down. The Rounded container sat firmly in my palm as if it was meant to stay there. Slowly, i lifted the bottle to my bare chest and embraced it with my hands, my tears, my soul.
  The wonderous scent of the cologn could hardly be described in a normal matter. Some would say it was an ordinary liquid in a ordinary bottle. Yes, that may be true to some, but to me it meant everything. Aged leather and aftershave. Not just any scent, no. His scent. The scent that defined him when he held me close. The scent that became his presence when he was gone. The scent that comforted me and brought me back to him whenever i inhaled it. Now more then ever this scent touched my heart, brought memories racing back to me and willed tears down my face. Yes, it was more then a scent now. It was his love in a bottle, and all i had left of him.
  When he left me that June, it was nothing new. More routine then anything. A routine i dreaded each and every time it came about. He held me close and ever so tightly in the chilled night air. Moonlight shined onto his hair and down the side of his charming face as he gazed into my worried eyes. My heart was weak with pain, dread, sadness. Seven months before he would return to me, seven months before we would meet again. As he leaned in for one final kiss, he took my hand in his. The glorious moment was gone all to fast. The warmth of his kiss, the comfort in his touch. He placed the small container in my hand, reassuring me that whenever i smelled it, he would be brought back to me. I cheerished this gift with all my heart. He was walking down the drive to his awaiting cab now. One wave and he was off. Off to the airport, off to a mission the he devoted his life to. A life of courage and honor defending our country.
  Days passed, nights lingered. That bottle never left my dresser, and whenever i felt lonely it was right there to provide temporary comfort. Constant worry became my life. Rushing to the mailbox daily with an underlaying eagerness provided hope. The letters offered a peace of mind, a reason to smile. They quickly stacked up in a box next to the cologn. His letters, his scent...all i had of him for the time being and i wasn't about to lose sight of either. Cold whitness soon metled into a rush of color and warmth. The seasons were changing and the day i would hold him again was drawing nearer.
  No letter for three days. No letter for a week, two weeks. My mind filled with dreaded images, my heart was overwhelmed with fear and weakness. My life went on only because i was breathing, i felt dead to the world in every other sense. Anxiety quickly overcame my soul and tears became very familiar with my face. I was lost in uncertainty, worry and dread. My instinct thrust the horrible truth into my heart, while my mind tried to fight it off. There was no stopping it, no denying it.
  The knock. So loud and violent, and beating on my front door. The car. Decorated with flashing lights and police symbols. The sargent, the officer. Both with a somber expression. Slow motion as they spoke the words, time stopping as i fell to the floor, as they fell with me and held me tightly. The pain was beyond tears, beyond shouting, beyond anger. It was unexplainable, almost inhuman. The men offering to stay, me shutting them out, speaking harsh words, telling them to leave. Walking to my room, to that bottle, nothing was real, life was a nightmare. Making it to that little container, laying on my bed, reality slipping quickly out of reach. Darkness...silence, a flood of loneliness and unimaginable helplessness. My life would never be the same.