Small to Large - An Attempt To Rationalize My Feelings

Wondering when I'll see him again. Waiting for that moment where all butterflies will be trapped within the pit of my stomach, I'll glance at him and shudder with overwhelming delight.

He's still in Iraq, doodling on the margins of notebook pages, when's he not hammering away on the radios that he must repair. No sip of alcohol for a year for my love after a year of daily drinking. No halitosis or boxers; hygiene is Army strong. No touching or kissing; celebacy is Army stronger. And no freedom, just a base to roam in; imprisonment in a desert is the Army strong and ironic.

All wars end and survivors return home to screech at their spouses for not having dinner on the table at the exact moment they come home. They'll drink for three days til work starts back up again, having barbecues and parties with their battle buddies. They'll debate over re-enlisting or getting out after the two years they signed on for. "Maybe we'll get sent overseas to Japan," one will say.
"Yeah! I've always felt antithesis for Japs but I could get over that real fast."

Although in some ways we do feel like we owe our soldier kin for their sacrifices of freedom, they must recognize that while they are over there, we are still living our own lives over here. We can't possibly go to school, work, and do all the household chores on our own. We won't be beaten and tossed around like a ragdolls, just because it wasn't us who fought the brutal heat in Iraq or were under enemy attacks of mortar bombs. We fought the great war against mosquitoes and black flies, traitors and liars, temptation and desire. Our war may not be so deadly but we are merely human and soldiers we all are.