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One step at a time...

Short story By: Clair Leon
Young adult

Luke & Maria Angelo are a young couple, with one 2 1/2 year old son, all sounds great, perfect, right? wrong, when Luke get shipped off to war, this seriously dents Maria's plans for their future, life, & Plans that she would have loved to follow through with, but all is put on hold when Luke, her one true love, her life & her strength, is gone, only being able to call every so often, Maria is nervous, lost & scared, not only for her husbands safety, but also for her sanity, peace & Well being. This is a wonderful story with a FANTASTIC message, read, enjoy & Comment...

Submitted:Mar 16, 2008    Reads: 165    Comments: 1    Likes: 1   

"Where are you?" I cry into the phone, "I'm alright, baby, don't worry, I'll be home soon," "Thats what you said last month, I'm worried about you, this was a horrible decision, why can't you just come home," I am now histericle, I have probably woken my 2 year old son, "Don't worry, I know how hard this is, on all of us, I love you, thats all that you need to remember, I am okay, I am just trying to take it one day at a time," My husband Luke yells into my phone ear, while I hear bombs and such going off in the background. "I love you, please, try to get the hell out of there soon, I am worried about you, why did we even decide to do this? To 'Help our country?' How are we supposed to do that when I am sitting in the kitchen, drinking 10 cups of coffee a day, I can't even help myself, or you...I just miss the old us, babe, when I married you, I thought that nothing could go wrong on that day, my worst nightmare has happened, you being halfway across the world, fighting in a freaking war that is NEVER going to end, without being able to help you, what if a bomb went off tomorrow, or tonight, even, I couldn't see your face one last time, I would hear the same old lines saying, 'I'm okay, I'll try to be home soon.' hon, I feel nervous every single day of my life, worrying that I will get a letter saying that you are missing in action, I don't want that...I want you, only you, your son is going to be turning 3 in July, I don't even know if you will be there for his birthday, or if you'll even be alive," I start bursting into tears, letting them roll down my face and into my, now cold, coffee, "Babe," Luke says, I can feel the tears welling up into his eyes, "I will be there on my sons birthday, I will talk to you again, I will be there to kiss you goodnight again, to hold you when you are scared, like you are now, I love you & Dillon, more than anything else on earth, I would sacrifice myself for you to live, I would live here for eternity if I had to, in order to keep you safe, I'm sorry I'm not there right now, but I can promise you, even if I do die, my last thought will be of seeing you some day again, when we all have passed, died, & gone to heaven, I love you," He says, I can tell that he needs to go, I know that line, it always ends with an, 'I love you.' "I can't wait 'till this damn thing is over with, I love you, try to call, & think of me alot, okay?" I say desperately, "Yeah, don't worry, you don't have to tell me that, it is my second nature to think of you & Dillon, I love you, I have to go, okay? But I will call as soon as I can, Bye..." I hear the line go dead, as I sit in the kitchen, all alone, with my feet in their warm, wool slippers, curled up tight to my chest, I manage a smile as I start to think, 'It's going to be okay, I am going to be fine, Luke will return soon, only 3 more months, until I can walk into the airport, holding my sign that says 'Luke Angelo' at the arrivals area, a single tear runs down my cheek, & I get up, put my coffee in the microwave, push in the numbers, 30 seconds, I wait, looking around the Lanolium laid tile, bringing back all of my memories, when Luke had carried through the thresh-hold, I smile, get my coffee out of the microwave & go back to bed. Everyday is a new day, just one breath at a time, just one step at a time, we can get through this, just one little breath, step, day, week, month, or even year at a time.


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