Toothbrushes

Twenty years ago, I was stuck in a kind of hell, struggling to get out. By August, with the help of friends I didn't realize were such good friends, I escaped, ransomed my own life, and began a year of changes that would end with celebrating D's birthday and a return to a home. Little did I know then, although everyone in our guard unit had an opinion of what our fate would be in the threatening conflict. Most figured we'd be deployed stateside, some that it would all blow over, few guessed we'd be sent overseas, and they figured it would be Europe, not the Middle East. No one guessed six months in Saudi Arabia, in a footnote war. That the real conflict would begin long after, and still be running two decades later.

The weekend after Thanksgiving, we'd all be loading our duffle bags, writing wills, hoping our contingency plans would hold up, and walking into the unknowable. We got on busses alphabetically to be shipped to Colorado for a while.

On the way, the romance between D and I took a few more hesitant steps. At stops, he found me, (since our last names were not close) gave me the lyrics for The End Of The World As We Know It, written out on a little notepad. We got together at the breakfast served at the HoJos, and snagged the disposable toothbrushes, much appreciated after a long night on the bus, despite bristles that came out in one's mouth. I didn't really know what to make of him, then. So skittish myself, reading into every gesture, tone, word. Little could I tell he would be my life and joy.

We look left and right, we look backward and forward, but we live right now.