The Marines.
The name popped up into my head everyday, like a bad cold I just couldn't shake. Bumper stickers, flags, commercials, pop-ups, video games, movies, clothing. Everywhere I turned the reminder was like a rock-hard slap in the face.
Like every teenage boy who has every played Call of Duty, Ethan wants to join the military, go to war. I can't even force the words out of my mouth to make a coherent sentence.
'To protect my loved ones,' he told me. Like he couldn't do that from the safety of our tiny chicago suburb.
'To be accepted. To be where everyone's accepted. Everyone's in the same amount of danger, the same shit, equally.'
'It's not just the Marines either, it's war in general. It's fighting for our country.'
'The same shit,' I interrupted, 'You're signing up to ship off to hell?'
It had been my choice in the beginning, I could have convinced him to stay with me, go to college, get a not-so-dangerous job, get married, raise a family. I had him convinced at first, actually, but then me and my stupidity, I told him I couldn't let him do that. I still stand by the decision today, but there are plenty of times I look back and wish I hadn't opened my big mouth that day. I told him I couldn't stop him from pursuing his dreams, his passion since he was in fourth grade. Without my passion, well I didn't know who I would be. How could I take that away from him?
Well, now-a-days, fairly easily.
But I wouldn't, because I had had years to prepare for this. Literally, years. Almost 3 to be exact. Not that he'd be here in order to celebrate it. He'd be in bootcamp, falling in love with something else entirely different. And once he did, well I knew I stood no chance between him and war. I've had time, and plenty of it. I could have became rock hard, I could have soaked up every detail of this beautiful boy I love so much and branded it into my memory, but I hadn't. I waited until now to spare extra glances, steal extra kisses.
Of course there were conditions to him going to war, and not for him, but for me. Our relationship would not turn into an open one once he was gone. I wasn't allowed near the relationship status button on facebook. I had to wait for him, and I had to be ready to be a Marine's wife some day in the near future. That itself scared me. I love him, and I promise myself every day that I will wait dutifully for him, but being a young bride? Well, it just felt wrong to me. Like I shouldn't even have to be thinking about it. But this, war, well it gave our timeline a possibilty of shortening, which meant things had to happen now or never. And if Ethan...dies, well, I want him to die mine.
When we first met, well let's just say it was like at first sight. It was a whirlwind of an adventure through sixth grade. He was in my advanced english class, and since english was my favorite subject, I took it as some sort of sign from God. I watched him sit in front of me for weeks without talking to him, until one day Ms. Chirillo asked us to find a partner. He turned around with a soft, cute, little smile, flipped his ridiculously long hair away form his glasses and asked me; "Will you be my partner?"
It was love.
Of course, it took two years after I discovered my feelings for little Ethan for him to realize he had similar feelings. Once he got taller than my 5'2", shaved his mustache, and changed entirely it seemed, he asked me to be his.
That hasn't changed since along with the Marines, even if everything else has.
"God, I wish I was there." he says feverently, staring wide-eyed at the T.V. He snaps me out of my reverie and I look up at him, shifting slightly in his arms as my heart sinks but my lips rise into a smile.
"I know," I say confidently.
He continues to watch the movie, and shakes his head. "God, I can't wait." In his eyes there's a shine of unmistakeable passion flashing through his eyes that causes me to swallow back sorrows.
"I know..." I say again, softer this time.
"Don't have to wait much longer," he says with a smile "2 months and we graduate, and then I'm enlisting."
I look back at the television screen. Of course, I knew we only had 61 days left until we graduate, and that the next shipping date was two weeks from then. 75 days left. His countdown had started just recently, mine started years ago.
After a minute or so of silence, he looks down at me, and like a magnet my eyes are drawn to his. They were like calidoscopes, small star like decorations in the rich honey color of his eyes. I stared at them, memorizing. He kisses me on the forehead, and nothing could hurt more at that moment.
"Love you, baby." he mumbles against my skin.
"Love you too." I whisper, terrified.
