Military Man

When I was younger,
only by a few years or so,
I declared that I would never love
a military man.
I consistently insisted
that I would only love
a man
who would always stay
beside me,
and never leave,
but little did I know
that a man's presence
can be as persuasive as
the sunshine peeking through
stubborn rain clouds.

When I was younger,
only by a few months or so,
I declared that I would always
love the man
that made my heart beat fast,
the man who even when he was
gone,
was in every crevice of
my being.
Little did I know
that you can love and hate
with the same breath,
that you can love and hate
every brush of their lips.

I still remember my declarations,
remember all my reasoning
yet I disentangle
myself from their
faux permanency.
For I have found the man
that my heart calls home,
the man who incites me,
dares me, challenges me
into anger,
into love,
into hope,
into despair,
I have found the man
who erases all my
inhibitions and replaces
them with undeniable,
unshakable confidence.

I have found my man,
my military man,
the one I will fight for,
the one that
will hold me
in the fox holes
of this battle,
this living in
the modern
war
fought by the
mind's and heart's
militias.

The End

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