And Then He Left Her....

The next two months only brought them closer together.


Every moment they could spend together, they did. When they couldn't be together, they thought about each other all the time. Her life became about him and his about her.


Her made her feel special and beautiful. Desired. Loved. And he was the most gorgeous man she'd ever met in real life. Her eye never once strayed to anyone else, except in annoyance that any other man would dare talk to her when she was taken. This was obvious, wasn't it? Even when he wasn't with her. She had that air of a woman in love.


She forgot that there ever was a time when he wasn't in her life. Couldn't believe that she'd ever cared about any other guy because nothing had ever felt like this. She couldn't imagine a time without him there. Couldn't imagine how she would even been able to breathe without him by her side.


Never had she been in love like this. So all-consuming, passionate, and alive.


But, as happens when one is in love with a military man, they were going to be separated.


For five weeks.


He was going to have to go away for training. Somewhere far away and remote. Where she wouldn't be able to see him and would rarely get to talk to him.


As the time approached for him to leave, he began to pack up what he would need. And brought the rest of his things to her place to store, as he was switching barracks while he was gone and would rather that his belongings stay with her than be entrusted to the guys whose job it would be to move them.


They spent one last night together, whispering promises to each other. And then she had to drive him to base in the middle of the night to leave. Their last kiss was one of desperation, trying to convey all their feelings and make up for the lonely weeks ahead.


Without him, her days fell into a predictable pattern. She worked, went to the gym, and then came home to read, watch tv, correct papers, write him letters.


And pray that the phone would ring.


He wrote her, too. Sweet words. Passionate words. Of love and a future. Plans to always be together. Of knowing she was the one. Of how agonizing it was to be apart.


Their first Valentine's Day was spent apart. He sent her deep pink roses.


They talked a few times while he was away, but since they were in different time zones, he was working long hours, and there was always a line for the phone, they talked less than each would like. Or, less than she would like. Maybe he was only making excuses for not calling.


But, then she would pull out his letters to reassure herself. And would open the spare closest where his belongings were stored to breathe in the smell of him, sleep in one of his shirts to feel close to him, to know that he was real and was coming back.


The day came for him to arrive back home.  All day long, she was on edge. Every chance she got, she called home to check her answering machine to see if he had called yet. But, there was no word from him.


As soon as the final bell rang that day and her last student left, she sped home.  Showered, fixed her hair and make-up, put on the new dress she had bought for the occasion, and nervously paced around her house, stopping frequently to scrutinize herself in the mirror.


What if, despite his words, his promises, he had changed his mind?  He had told her in his last letter that he was sure she was the one, the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. She had written back and told him that she felt the same way.


The night wore on. 8 o'clock. 9. 10. Unable to sleep, she watched the clock slowly tick to 3 am.


Defeated, she crawled into bed, trying to tell herself that she didn't care. That maybe he thought it was too late to call. That surely, he'd call tomorrow. She would have called him herself, but since his room was changed, she didn't have his new number yet.


Pathetically, she told herself that he would have to see her at least one more time to get his belongings. Because though she loved him fiercely and thought her felt the same way, she kept thinking that it was so perfect that something was going to happen to ruin it all. That the fairy tale love they had couldn't really last.


She tossed and turned and finally fell asleep.


At 5:00am, her phone rang.


It was him, telling her how much he had missed her and how there had been some sort of delay that he couldn't talk about once they had arrived back on base. That he wanted to call her, but couldn't until right then.


How much he wanted to see her, but knew that she had to be at work in a little while.


She offered to take the day off work. But, he had to go in to work later, anyway. The next day would start a four day weekend for him and he really wanted her to take those days off instead.


She looked at her clock. If she hurried and got ready for work, she could spend an hour with him before she'd have to leave to go to work.


She rushed to get out the door and had to force herself not to speed as she headed toward him, anticipation making her nervous.


It was still dark as she pulled into the parking lot where he was waiting.  He was opening her door before she had the car fully stopped.


They were in each other's arms, both with tears in their eyes.


"Did you mean it?" he whispered in her ear. "Did you mean it when you wrote that you think that I'm the one?"


"Yes, yes, yes. I love you," she swore.


"You're my one.. I hated being away from you. Some day, I want you to be my wife."


She believed him and couldn't imagine that they wouldn't be together forever.....


Yes, I'm writing the story of my past in third-person. Because it was a lifetime ago. If you missed any of it and want to get caught up, click on the "my story" label below for the previous parts.