My head is doing it to me again: Trying to protect my heart from the truth. He is getting ready to deploy. He still walks through my door, still kisses me hello, but I am already treating him like it is a kiss goodbye. The kiss goodbye.
I bounce through my day, playing with my kids and keeping myself occupied and full of menial tasks until he comes home. “How was work?” I ask him. I hear words falling from his mouth. Watch him pull and push the corners of his lips to form the syllables. What I hear, rotating and churning in my head, are words begging and pushing to be screamed. “You can’t leave me again!” He knows I am not listening. And my mind runs rampant, searching for a new vacant conversation. I am wild with desire to escape.
At night I try to concentrate on his body, his smell. But as I fitfully lose to sleep, I hear the bullets. See the explosions. Smell the powder and taste the gun metal. My mind forces me to snap awake. It immediately begins counting to soothe my heart. I force myself to stare at the ceiling. “It isn’t real.” “It isn’t real,” my brain tells me. Over and over again. 5000. 4999. 4998…With my heart finally assuaged, my mind submerges into a novel. A story. A funny joke. Anything to avoid the reality bursting from my heart.
I can’t escape it. My mind can’t run fast enough to catch the fear, worry, and frantic pounding of my heart. And he sees it. I am fooling no one. My mind keeps words falling from my mouth. Works to create casual conversation that has never felt at home on my tongue. “So, who do you think will win the game on Saturday?” I ask him, awkwardly. He smiles, allowing my foolish mind trick, and hugs me.
“It’s okay,” he says. “I will pretend with you. We can talk about anything you want. Anything but goodbye.” Just like that, my heart stops to wait for my mind. “Okay,” I say. I curl up on him and allow that first tear to dampen his shirt. Silence surrounds us.
