In the Dust

Since the first time he spoke those words, I knew they weren’t true. My past experiences had taught me that already. But it didn’t matter. Love distorts your vision, like a pair of dusty sunglasses one picks up off of the side of the road. So, when Johnny told me he’d be back, I had not a doubt in my mind.

Or so I believed.

Now, looking back on that horrendous day, I realize I’d always known it was a lie he only wanted us to believe.
After being accepted into MIT in the field of Liberal Arts and Journalism, I took a year traveling abroad. It was the year I met Johnny. In the blink of an eye, we were married, I twenty three and he a year older. Of course, throughout our three years of marriage, I knew Johnny wasn’t happy in the confining computer science job he’d received. I also had an inclination that I was the only thing keeping him from doing what he really wanted. So, when I gave him the get go, he literally sprinted his way into the army.

Within five years, the love of my life was slaughtered in the war in Afghanistan.

This brings me to today, right now. My tears drop, making puddles in the red dust. I wanted to sit in the very spot he died for my whole life. I bite my tongue and wish I could turn back the clock for more time with him. I flash back to my last words with Johnny. I wish he had heeded my advice:
Get out before it’s too late.
And now, it was indeed too late.