When we are Apart

I think I understand what people who live too far north or too far south in the world want; but I dream of the opposite. You don't get to pick where you grow up, but every child dreams of a far-off place that is just for them - and the people they want there. 

My cheek rests on the sleeve of my sweater as I peer out the window onto the endless fields of green. Unlike my mind, my eyes don't have too many things to drift off to.

Every year, it is the same. The fields are planted with a sweet fruit that most everyone around here promptly dislikes: watermelon. The large, rolling fruits are difficult to do anything with. To carry, cut, transport... 

Could you even begin to imagine that there are other places that don't have this melon? And... The wonder of snow?

Oh, for how I dream of this fluffy rain-like substance. Is it cold to the touch, like air conditioning? Or is it too cold, like ice straight from the freezer? I wish I knew.

"Are you done day-dreaming over there, Marco?" My girlfriends voice brings me back out from my swarming thoughts. 

I sit up and lean back on the seat of the car. "Yes, in fact, I was," I admit, pushing some hair out of my face only for it to fall almost back into the exact same spot.

"Well, we're here," She points ahead from her spot in the drivers seat.

I look out the windshield window of the car, and in-fact, we are headed right towards the airport. "That, we are," I mumble.

"Marco, you will be fine. Just do you best, and I know you will come home safe," Annie insists. "And you will have all of that time to think about our future, too," She hints, gently nudging me with her elbow.

"You know how I am: never plan until the moment before!" I tease, and pretend that her nudges didn't hurt.

"Oh, I know," she giggles and pulls into a parking spot.

I unlatch my seatbelt before opening the car door, lugging my carry-on duffel bag out alongside me.

Annie is already at the trunk, grabbing my suitcase. "I can do it," I offer.

"No way am I letting you do-" she lets it slide onto the ground. "This all by yourself."

I place the bag on the ground and go in front of her before she can grab my third bag. The tightness in her face relaxes when her eyes meet mine.

Together we meet for a hug, and she's clinging onto me more then my mom and dad did when we said our goodbyes yesterday. 

"I don't want you to go," her voice catches on the emotion of this moment.

"Annie, I love you my feather," my hand goes under her hair and rests on her upper back. "And I love our country, and our home. Our friends and family..."

She sniffles.

"...The draft may separate us for a short time, but if we are meant to be then we will find a way to each other again."

"Sooner rather then later," she tries to keep her perky tone of voice.

"For sure," I agree and she starts to release the hug. So, I kiss her cheek and let her do so.

"I'm still bringing your suitcase to the weigh station," she insists, clicking up the bar on the luggage.

"I don't believe that I am going to be able to stop you."

~

We bring the luggage inside, and she joins me as far as she could. It was no easier for her to leave me and it was for I to leave her. But, I wanted this. And in some weird, backwards way, I wanted to experience snow.

Waiting in line to get myself checked, she takes a feather out of her pocket. For months now, she had been giving me these one by one. She had a few birds as pets throughout the years, and collected feathers from whenever and wherever she could. This one is small, soft, and a very light shade of pink. "For luck." She tells me, and I know that it would be so. I tuck the feather behind my ear.

She kisses my lips, and that was the last time I felt her. She disappeared down the stairs, and that was the last time I will see her until my return. 

If I return. 

Even when surrounded by people, I felt alone. I did everything to get her off my mind, but the moment I got distracted Ir realized how much seeing her again motivated me.

And, my troop went to a location with snow. It was enough only to fill the gaps between the blades of grass, but I got the opportunity to touch it, to let it surround my fingers. It had a soft bite of cold like an ice cube, but it was also gentle and free like the air blown from an air conditioning.

I survived, for months Annie was my driving passion just as much as experiencing snow was. It Was not until my injury that I stood down.

If not for my infection, I may have never been able to go home. My troop was killed in an explosion not long after I had left. Meanwhile, I was on my way home to Annie.

Fate or destiny or sheer luck did us good karma, and we got engaged. I got the girl, I got to experience my dream, I protected my country. What more could a young man ask for?