deux

I stand there watching her. A sea of greens and tans, soldiers of all shapes, sizes, colors and genders. She almost blends in to the crowd. A few times I lose sight of her as they mill about, checking in with their First Sergeant. Finally, they're all allowed to say their goodbyes. Her family couldn't make it to see her off. There's only me. We hug quickly and sit on the grass.

It's muggy out, and sweat runs down her face from underneath her camoflauge cap. She must be burning up under that heavy ballistic vest. I want to hold her. I want to kiss her. I want to pull her to me and never let her go. But I can't. I can just whisper to her how much she means to me, how much I'm already missing her, and how I'll be here, no matter what. I can't believe this is all really happening. It seems surreal, and the tears won't stop.

Too soon, an officer announces, "It's about that time." We hug again, a little tighter this time. I hope no one notices. She playfully claps me on the cheek and mouths, "I love you," as she turns and walks away.

Please, God, let her be safe. Let them all be safe. Let them all come home to thier families, children, lovers and friends. Watch over them and give them the strength they'll need over there. Please.

Please.