My Hero

My hero
the wind is blowing rough, rain relentless and i have caught a chill. i pull on my jacket and a pair of socks, and settle into my book again. this is just what i needed. alone time. phone off, no internet to distract me, and the most amazing view one could ask for during a pilgrimage to Me Town.

Sneaky silently hops up and curls up by my feet. bad timing, babe, I think. it is time for my 4th cup of coffee and to feed you and your sister again.

once settled back into my reading chair, engrossed in my new thriller, i start to feel a presence. i shake it off as Sneaky's sister, prowling around her new digs. after 20 minutes, the heaviness in my heart can't be shaken. when i look up, i see him approaching my door. excitement for seeing him wrestled with my need to be alone and undisturbed. i quickly decide that spending some time with him is a good thing.

i haven't seen him since he was last deployed and i am surprised to see that he has come to see me. i get up out of my reading chair, wrapped my blanket around me and opened the door to him before he even set his first step on my porch.

something isn't right. the feeling isn't right. it is more than the usual mix bag of feelings when we are together. the shame, the secrecy, the need for no one to know. and the nagging question in my head, "how did he know where i was?"

he stands on my porch, drenched to the bone, shivering a little, regulation US Army tote bag in hand. we just stand, wordlessly, looking at each other. without making a sound, i shove the screen door open with my butt and he followed me in. i smelled the rain on him, washing away the familiar aftershave that usually makes my knees go week. "how did he know where i was?"

I walk to the closet and take out an extra towel and blanket for him to dry himself off with and wrap around himself, in some attempt to expel the chill that would have seeped in to his bones. as he busied himself with warming up, i walk over the the fireplace and stick another couple of logs to it, and poked the fire back to life. I poured another cup of coffee and took a bottle of his favorite beer out of the fridge. I always have a few of that special micro brew around the house, for those moments that i want to walk down memory lane.

he wraps his hands around the large bowl of joe, and deeply inhales, while i settle back onto my reading seat. i know, now, to wait until he is ready to come to me.

for as long as this so-called affair has been going on, the first few minutes have always been awkward. he needs to take his time, and make the switch from soldier to civilian. from target to me. for the horrors he sees everyday for months that are etched into his handsome face to relax, bringing him back to me. I know it won't be for long. he'll probably be gone by morning, but i have to make the most of our time together.

i hear him set down the cup of coffee, pick through his tote and go into the tiny bathroom to freshen up. i start to read again, trying to ignore the growing unease and heaviness in the pit of my stomach. this isn't right. "how did he know where i was?"

i feel the steam coming off of him before he squats down next to me. i shift my concentration to him, his concentration set on finding and answer at the bottom of his brew. the all to familiar struggle and turmoil has left permanent creases on his handsome young face. his eyes hollow, unable to keep the terrors at bay.

i reach out and stroke his cheek as gently as possible. slowly, hand under his chin, i lift his gaze to mine. i am surprised to see the tears that have filled his dark, asian eyes. my heart feels like it is breaking all over again.

"this isn't right," he barely whispers. "i needed to see you. i needed to be with you, feel you, one more time."

a tear rolls down his cheek.

"i'm right here."

suddenly, his arm is around my waist, face buried in my chest. heavy, silent sobs, shake my body. all i can do is hold him. "this isn't right. he shouldn't be here yet." "how does he know where i am?"

as if sensing the intensity of our auras combined, Sneaky and Squeeze silently go to their carrier, as if to give us privacy.

when he looks up at me, he says, "i'm not supposed to be here. i'm lost. i'm not supposed to be here. why am i here?"

hurt and confusion feel like they are about the burst through my chest.

"then why ARE you here?" i try to keep my voice soft, understanding, keeping my emotions buried deep.

"something happened..."

i waited for him to tell me what, still trying to ignore the sense of dread.

"something happened and i had to find you first."

"what happened? and how did you find me?"

looking back down the neck of his bottle, as if searching for an answer to a question he didn't know, he answered, his voice was hollow. "i don't know. i closed my eyes, my only thought being that i needed to find you, and when i opened my eyes, i was at your door."

"well, your here now. let's make the most of our time. i'll fix some dinner."

after a simple meal of pasta, tomato sauce, shrimps and a few drinks later, silence falls over the house again.

"i have to go."

not looking up, i just nod. "i knew it," i thought.

"i have to go, and i ... i don't think i can come back."

"just stay. stay for a while. can't you just stay one night. the weather has turned for the worse. you can't go anywhere with that storm out there. can't you just be with me. for one more night?"

did i want him to stay? did i want to repeat the cycle of heart ache? or was it time. to for a clean cut. time to free my heart and my soul for good.

he looks deep into my eyes, "you know there is nowhere i would rather be at this precise moment. i need this. i need to say goodbye. i need to do this right."

he stands up, circles the table and gently lifts me from my seat. hand in hand, we walk over to the sound system and he puts on our song. still holding my hand, he turns to look down into my eyes. "dance with me. one last time. dance with me."

i allow his arms to pull me in, the familiar embrace, the strength and beat of his heart, does little to calm my anxiety. "this isn't right. why isn't this right? why can't this be right? what is wrong?"

we move as one. as we have always moved. only this time, there is a feeling of overwhelming desperation. desperate for this moment to never end. desperate to find answers.

as his lips meet mine, there is a feeling of flight. then falling. we undress each other hurriedly, frantically, trying to make each second count, knowing our time was almost up. he picks me up and lays me down by the fire. love making feels light, yet heavy, almost unreal. visions and sounds fill my head. the day we first met, teasing each other in the wings of the theater on performance night, online flirtation, leading to our first forays into the forbidden. and finally, the troubled connection that keeps bringing us back together, if even for brief, stolen moments.

"this isn't right." i keep hearing his voice in my head. he is crying, i can feel his tears falling and landing on my bare belly. then, the ringing. it is incessant and out of place. it starts to drown out all other sounds. i almost miss his last words, whispered in my ear, "i love you. i've always been yours."

when i open my eyes again, the sun blinds me. i feel the cold and reach out to clothe myself again, but confusion sets in. i am already clothed. my book on my chest, i am wrapped up in my blanket, on my reading chair, facing the large window. the storm has passed and the morning sun has all but erased the typhoon that had swept past the night before.

something is ringing and vibrating on the chair next to me. i realize it is my phone. suddenly, the feeling of dread is back, threatening to to rupture out of my chest. as i reach over to answer the little gadget, a nagging thought starts to fight through the night's confusion. i look around for him, but there is no sign. no dried foot prints. no wet towel. no empty bottle of brew.

"hello?"

"it's me" a familiar young female voice. the voice of my friend, his sister.

"what's wrong?" i ask, although i feel i know the answer already.

"i'm so sorry. he's dead."

i can't breathe.

"when?"

"yesterday. their convoy drove right into an ambush. they say he fought it, but the injuries were too severe. he bled out late last night."

"wait, no that can't be right... he was just here."

"no, honey, he wasn't. he couldn't have been."

"i have to go. i'll call you later. i'm sorry for your loss."

as i hung up the phone, my the room started to spin. i notice that my jacket is damp, and there is a smell of rain. as i sit up, if feel an itchy on my belly and go to scratch it. dried tears. he WAS here.

a gust of wind blows open the screen door open and i hear his voice again. "i love you", i hear him. "i have always been yours."

tightening my blanket around me, i sink back into my reading chair, eyes still on the screen door. the gust of wind dies down. and then all is still.
Posted by littlemisskitty at 12:25 AM 0 comments 
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