The scars from war.

My time in combat was nothing like I could have imagined it to be. During the last few months in the States, my Corporal would invite our rifle squad to his house after every training session that left our rifle squad in the field for weeks. My Corporal had a beautiful wife. She was very flirtatious, she held onto my hand for a bit too long when she showed me around their house. I found out we shared the same odd hobby. She was kind and funny. And I did my best to not get a crush on her. After a few drinks, my Corporal caught me looking at her.

"You like her f*****g b***s huh?" Corporal asked me. I looked down in shame and I prepared myself to get chewed out worst than the time I was late to a mandatory meeting.

Unexpectedly my Corporal spoke to me in a cheerful tone, "When you get a f*****g wife you can buy her damn b***s too Boot!" Boot wasn't my nickname, it's what you call all the new guys. I think the term comes from someone fresh from boot camp. 

When we were in Iraq, once every few weeks, we had the opportunity to make a 10-minute phone call home; if we were willing to wait in the 2-hour line. We got on the phones and his wife asked to talk to me about our shared hobby. She was pleasant to talk to and told us she'd be waiting for us. I spent more time talking to his wife than he did. "I'm glad she has someone to talk about that nerdy s**t with. I can't stand that crap." My Corporal said.

Then like any other day doing the same thing, out of nowhere, my Corporal got hurt. He was talking and joking as we patched him up and carried him to the helicopter that came for him. It was a couple days later where we were told he didn't make it. I was told to pack up his personal items to be sent home. I smelled the sweet perfume of his wife. I guess she sprayed in on the hundreds of letters she wrote to him. Since my Corporal and I shared the same first name, I started to fall in love with all the letters she wrote to him.  I found an unfinished letter he was writing to her, I read it and I never imagined my foul-mouthed Corporal could have been so capable of writing so lovingly.

A few months later, when we got home, we stepped off the plane we turned in our rifles to the armory. His wife was waiting there for us. She welcomed each and every one of us home and gave us hugs. She congratulated our rifle squad and was so happy to see us all. She invited everyone over, but everyone respectfully declined; they chose to spend time with their own families who traveled to come see them.

I stuck around at a distance, and she just kept waiting there after everyone left. She kept smiling and waiting patiently as if he was being held up by the armory not accepting his rifle as if it was dirty. After ten minutes of just standing there, she collapsed and her beautiful summer dress got soiled by the ground. I heard her calling out Our name and so I came to her. I grabbed her hand like she grabbed mine on the first day we met and we walked down to her car. I drove her home and I called a taxi to bring me back to the barracks. She convinced me to stay for just a little while, and she wanted someone to play our odd hobby with her. 

I agreed, then she started to play the piano, and I played her spare violin. We played sad songs, happy songs and took shots of liquor in between. She stopped playing in the middle of one sad song and she took one of his shirt ties and handed it to me.

"Blindfold me." She said, "Please be him for just tonight. Please (she said our name), kiss me." That had always been my fantasy, she was sweating slightly and she smelled just as the same as her letters. I was watching my fantasies come to reality as I felt into temptation. 

I woke up in the middle of the night with her arms around me. My Corporals shirt tie still covering her eyes. Her laptop computer was still on the piano, still displaying the notes to the last song we played. I opened up a blank word document and I typed:

I will always love you. 

    (Our name)

From there I taxied to the airport and left for my next duty station on the other side of the States. I've blocked her phone number, her social media and all of her and my Corporals friends. It's been over ten years since I've seen her, and I still think about her every day. Our music plays on repeat in my head everywhere I go and I'll never find anyone as sweet and as loving as her. I've kept my promise to love her. The scars from war are nothing as I expected them to be.