The saying goes that men in the Army do more by 7 A.M. than I do in the entirety of my day, and waking up to you already dressed for the day while I am still
wiping the sleep from my eyes reminds me that your job isn't as simple as sitting in an office eight hours a day.
There is no preparation for the trepedation of waiting
for the call to come, "We need you to ship out."
There was no manual given to me when
I fell head over heels for you, that you,
my brave reservist, may actually take on foreign soil,
combat boots running, and how I, back on
home turf, am to remotely handle your absence when I can't go more than a nights sleep without your voice in my ear
and your arm wrapped around my torso.
This is the curse and blessing of a military relationship.
Holding you a little bit tighter in the night yet still waiting for the bed to be empty, keeping you hand in mine while keeping an eye on the phone.
And most importantly knowing that if that day comes, I'll be waiting for you when you step off the plane.
I'll be waiting.