Let Us Never Forget

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My heart was racing as I lay watching, waiting for him, needing to feel his hands on me, aching for his loving touch again. His mouth covered mine with the passion I had always known, his tongue intertwined with mine, sending my senses reeling. At the touch of his hand I began to float into an aroused abyss of love and yearning that almost seemed unreal. Soon his mouth was on my breasts, with tender kisses and touches, driving me into a lust for him I could not contain, nor would I try. My legs parted, begging for him to enter me with the flaming desire of love stored inside him. I felt his full pent-up flood of need focused as he entered, pushing into me, gently, yet with an urgency I had never before felt from him. His fullness inside me again, after all these months, was warm and comforting, pushing me to incredible ecstasy. His warm loving breath on my neck again, so reassuring, so magnificently reassuring, softly soothed all the aching, tension, and fear I had bottled up while he was gone. My body surrendered to his thrusts in a passion borne of the deepest, desperate desire for his love, and his need, and my need to express it all to him in this, our time to love again, now, here, and finally together. As my passion built and began to peak, I felt the warmth of his essence as he released and it flowed beautifully into me in surges of perfect rapture. We did not speak as we made love, there was no need. There were no sufficient words to express our feelings in the long delayed reunion of our love. When it was finished, finally, safe and secure in his arms, I told him of my longing for him and my deep love for him, and heard him say, "Know, I'll always love you, and our son, no matter what," and I fell asleep, sheltered in his comforting arms.

The next morning I awoke to the wonderful secure aroma of coffee brewing, and as I looked over, laying on his pillow was a little red rose, and I remembered it was Sunday, our Anniversary. Smiling I took the rose and entered the kitchen, pouring a cup of the coffee he had always made perfectly to my taste. Moving to the living room, I sat, holding my rose, sipping my coffee, and looking out the front window, wondering where he had gone.

My heart froze with terror as I saw two military officers turn and begin to walk up the sidewalk toward me. One was carrying a briefcase, and the other wore chaplain insignias on his collar. I could see the sadness in their eyes as they neared. "No, No, it can't be, he is here, he is home, like he promised." My heart cried out in terror. My mind raced and tears began to roll down my cheeks as I faced the realization. It all came rushing back, his words to me, the Purple Heart, the bandages covering his wound, he came home, but was not here. Tim had been here last night as he promised, but only to see his son and to say goodbye. Now he was gone, ... gone forever.

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