Camouflage

It was very, very early, around 2:00am. Usually you would think that I would be asleep by now, but I wasn’t. My mind was cluttered with thoughts of when he was coming home, when I would be able to see his face again. I quietly paced the living room in my pajamas, dragging my feet along the soft carpet underneath me. My eyes were tired and started drooping every so often, but I just kept taking sips of the cold coffee mug that was on the coffee table. The urge to fall asleep was trying to over come me, but I pushed it away by thinking of seeing him walk through that door.

My hair was a mess, being thrown up into a sloppy pony tail. The house wasn’t that much better either. Dishes were covering the dining room table, papers were stacked high upon the computer desk, baskets of clothes were all stacked at one corner of the living room, and it smelled of old Costco pizza. I hadn’t gotten around to do cleaning, and the smell was getting worse by the day. I coughed, and stopped my pacing, trying to stable myself. Looking around, I decided to actually clean for the first time in weeks. I started folding clothes and putting them in there rightful places first, humming along to an old tune.

The tiredness seemed to slip away as I distracted myself from keeping my eyes glued to the clock. Minutes turned to hours as the sun started to rise over the mountains. It was half past 5 and the whole house was finally clean. Sighing, I dragged myself over to my coffee cup which I conveniently left out. Picking it up, I looked inside to see that nothing was in it. I narrowed my eyes and walked myself sleepily over to the kitchen. On the way, I glanced in the mirror and almost had a heart attack. I looked horrible. I had very dark circles under my dimly lighted eyes, and my hair was more messy then before. I shook my head and kept heading towards the kitchen to retrieve more coffee.

I set the mug on the counter, and opened up the fridge. There was only a milk jug with barely any milk left, one piece of salami that looked to be getting moldy, and an empty carton of eggs. No wonder eating out seemed so nice lately. I was supposed to hold the house down. Oops. I shrugged it off and grabbed the milk jug, not in the mood to make myself any more coffee. When I started to pour the milk, I heard something. My eyes grew wide as I set the milk jug down, leaving a small puddle of milk on the counter. I raced around the corner to see what I was waiting for. Him.

His eyes were bright and shining as we stood there for a moment, just staring at one another. The camouflage he had on was dirty with wrinkles and creases everywhere. His buzz cut was the same as I remembered, and the bags he had in his hands dropped to the floor when I ran up to him. I jumped into his arms as tears started to form in my eyes.

“Your finally home.” I whispered into his ear as he spun me around a few times with tears streaming down my face. Not tears of sadness, but tears of joy. My hands clutched the back of his head, my fingers running over his soft black hair. I sniffled and kissed his cheek. He smelled like grass. Oh how I’ve missed that wonderful smell. He set me down and laughed.

“Yeah, I’m home.” He replied, his arms still wrapped around me. Oh his voice. It made my heart skip a beat. Butterflies erupted in my stomach. It felt good to hold him again, to feel his warm embrace, to listen to the sound of his voice. I closed my eyes for a second and pulled away, our faces inches apart. His electrifying blue eyes dazzled me. He breathed out and smiled at me. I leaned in and closed the gap between us, our lips pressed against one another. It was so relieving that he was in my grasp once more.





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