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"That's crazy," she said, shaking her head. I shrugged.
"That's the price of freedom," I said flatly.
"That doesn't change how fucked up it is," she insisted. "I don't know what I'd do if you ended up going over there."
"Going over there is kind of the whole point," I tried to say light-heartedly. She sounded like she was getting upset.
"I know, but I mean, what if something happened to you?" She didn't go into detail, but she didn't have to. I got it. Something happening was anything happening. Losing a leg, or an arm, or my life... The first two were probably a little worse than the last one. I mean, if you die, then you're dead, you don't have to remember what happened to you every day from your wheelchair because you can't walk anymore.
"A lot of guys come back just fine," I said. "Not every vet gets blown up."
"You can't go to a war zone and be just fine. That has to change a person," she said, sighing.
Well, shit. I shut up. I couldn't tell her. What the hell was I about to say? Well, lucky you, Ronnie, guess who got their warning order and has to leave in ten days? I had known for a couple weeks now, and it still wasn't the right time to tell her.
It wasn't like it would blindside her or anything, she knew I was in the army. Right at the end of the semester with finals coming up, I didn't want her to have to worry about this shit, too – because she would worry. And, not a normal kind of worry, either. That was who she was.
She could obsess about things sometimes. She was already worried about something happening to me, and we hadn't even discussed me going anywhere yet. I would have to tell her eventually – there was no way I could just ghost her – but right before finals was the wrong time to do it. She had to concentrate on getting through the semester. We both did. After that, I'd figure it out.
"I knew that when I enlisted," I said soberly.
"Are you scared?"
"No," I said shaking my head. "Right now? I'm more afraid of finals than that."
"There's a chance you'll never have to go over there, though, right?" she asked.
"Yeah, there is."
"I hope you never do," she said, looking down at the blanket.
"Damn, Ronnie. Shooting down my military career before it even begins?"
"I support you. I just hope you never have to put your life in danger."
"I could die walking out of my apartment tomorrow morning."
"That's not the same thing. You do that every day, and you're not getting shot at while you do it."
"Wow, Ronnie. Tell me how you really feel," I said jokingly, leaning back on my elbows.
"No, it's not like that."
"I'm hurt," I said, putting a hand over my chest dramatically.
"I'm just worried. I don't want those assholes to take you away from me." She came closer, lying on her side to look at me.
"I don't want them to do that, either. They can't keep me forever if I do end up going. I have to come back," I said.
"What am I supposed to do when you're gone?"
"Mail me pictures of your tits," I suggested. She giggled and wrinkled her nose.
"So you can pass them around to all your buddies?"
"So I can remember what's waiting for me when I get home," I said. Fuck, I thought, realizing it. She would have to wait for me. I wasn't even sure when the hell I would be back. Less than a year? Three years? Longer than that?
"I'm always happy to see you. You don't have to leave to make me appreciate it when we're together," she said quietly like she was talking to herself. I didn't know how much she had thought about what would happen if I went overseas. She put her hand over the one I had on my chest. Her smooth, slim fingers laced through mine. "I love you," she said.
