The military wife left behind

You sit there with your bags packed.

I want to be selfish and tell you not to go but

there's a lump in my throat.

You've only said one sentence to me since you've packed.

Russia has invaded Ukraine.

I don't understand why you have to go, it's not our fight.

Instead of talking I just smile and see you to the door.

I ask you how long you will be gone?

You shrug your shoulders.

I hug you tight and breathe in your sent. I'm afraid

to let you go.

I wave as you drive off. Then slump

to the floor and cry.

You've got this I tell myself over and over.

I clean the house from top to bottom, go for a run, walk the dog and cook dinner.

I can't distract myself at night time when I sleep alone.

The silence is unnerving, a reminder that you haven't called.

I watch the news daily for updates, praying that everything will be ok.

The calls I do get from you are brief. I don't want to

fill our conversations with my worries.

Weeks turn into months as seasons change.

I check my phone every 5 minutes waiting for a message.

Like someone flat-lining, I don't hear from you in days.

Silence fills the house as the light creates shadows across the room.

I go about my day, numb and empty.

My heart aches every day I don't hear from you. It's tearing me apart.

Like a needy child I want to be by your side.

My distractions are no longer working.

Every night tears help me sleep.

Exhaustion has become my best friend.

I've stopped looking at my phone, expecting the worse.

I surrender myself to suffocating sadness.

Then you call.

I'm coming home.