She waits everyday for him to come home.
Crossing out another day with a red permanent marker, as she has made it though once again. Her life has become a count down, a calendar of months that have been crossed off. It hangs, tacked up on the wall next to their bed so she can see every night how much longer she has to wait. The crossed out days are more a symbol of her strength without him, yet a longing for his return.
She has learned how to live without him.
She has learned how to BBQ by herself, cut the lawn alone, change the light bulbs, and raise their two daughters on her own. She can take care of herself there is no question there. For she is a self-sufficient woman, stronger than she ever imagined, more independent than she ever wanted to be.
Some days she pretends she can feel the warmth on his side of the bed as if he had slept there last night, but she knows he didn't.
She is the definition of independence and is defined by the strength that can be given in the absence love. For she is someone who waits for her husband everyday and every night to come home from the war. She misses him and the feel of his hand in hers, his laughter that captured her heart, and the feeling of being whole again.
He was not there when she had their second child.
He met her when he returned the last time from the war. She didn't know him yet, but little did she know he loved her with all he had. He now waits for their letters to come in the mail. He counts the days on a calendar late at night with a flashlight- he crosses off another day.
He has learned how to live without her. He misses the smell of her hair, the smile she captured his heart with, and the feel of her body lying next to his. He misses his daughters, and he knows true pain when he thinks about not being there to see them grow. He is strength, a symbol of sacrifice in order to protect those he has never met. He tries to imagine being a part of that everyday life, watching their children grow. He wonders when the rain falls outside late at night, if his girls will remember him when he returns or if it will be another introduction, and how long it would take before he becomes a familiar face.
He knows they are separated by miles, yet brought together everyday by a phone call; a voice at the other end of the line - close enough to hear, yet too far away to touch.
He tells her on the phone he made it out again today as the violence grew stronger near his area, but he tells her, not all of them will be coming home this time around. He was one of the lucky ones he tells to her.
Her house is quiet now, the sound of the ocean's waves whisper through the open windows as a salty breeze brushes by her face. She can taste the salt on her lips. She walks to the waters edge as she always does after she talks to him on the phone late at night. The cool water wraps around her ankles as her feet sink into the wet sand, she misses him like the stars would miss the moon, and like the evening would miss the colors of a sunset. She is sad without him, and longs for the day he comes home for good. She takes a deep breath as she walks back up to the house, for she is excited she can cross another day off.