The Soldier Next Door

Driving home in dead silence with the rain pounding down on the car, my thoughts are taken back to what happened earlier tonight. She can make up any excuse no matter how goddamn lame; it will still not make up for the way I broke her heart.

I can honestly say that at this very present moment, I feel what is probably my heart being sliced open and ripped to shreds. The pain is suffocating; it squeezes every breath of air from my lungs. There is nothing else I want to do now but cry.

Ana has brought me down.

But in all of my time as a Marine, I have never seen anyone crash and burn the way she did. It is not Ana; it is not who she is. Let alone lose her temper the way that she has been doing.

Is this what I have done to her?

Did I completely break her?

What have I done?

What the fuck have I done to her?

But in the same breath.

What the fuck has she done to me!

Maybe I am not the man that she needs in her life.

Maybe she is not the woman that I need in mine.

So wiping my mind away from all the bad that is chasing me, I find myself finally pulling up in the driveway. It seems to be pitch black. I am sure that she is probably fast asleep.

And let us not forget that I am coming home far later than I said that I would.

But fuck, I cannot stand being around the woman at this present time.

I am most definitely the last man that she wants to see now.

Yes, I am fully expecting a raging argument.

Making my way up to the front door of the home that we are supposed to share feels like the longest walk I have ever taken in my life. My knees are weak and reluctant to make the path to the front door.

It hurts every time I think of what our marriage has come to. Wanting to go into this house is something that I truly do not wish to do. That part that makes me a man, that goddamn ego that is as big as life, is the only thing that wants me to turn around and head back to the car.

But I force myself.

The moment that I slip the key into the lock, I remind myself that it cannot be as bad as it was this morning. I doubt that I will be received with welcoming arms. I can see it now; it is clear in my head, I will look a woman in the eyes that are about to claw out mine. There will be that anger that boiled over from earlier on and even worse than before.

So as I slide through the door as quietly as I can, I slip off my shoes and get rid of my shirt. Slowly made my way to the guestroom. But before I make my way into the room, I sneak into Lucas’s room to give him a kiss on the cheek.

But as I wait for my eyes to adjust to the dark, as I lean over into the crib…

Lucas is not there.

I flip the switch, the lights come on, but I find his crib is empty. With nervousness creeping up my spine, I find my way in the darkness to Ana’s room. Slowly, without really caring, I flip the switch to her bedroom lights.

As it flickers to light, I am shocked…

Ana is not here…

I immediately rush to the rest of the house, searching each room in haste; I find it completely empty as well.

Ana is definitely not around…

There is a force that takes hold of my heart and starts pulling at it in every direction. I feel as if I am about to explode into millions of scattered pieces which is swept by an icy wind into a dark abyss. Those tears that have been threatening to surface start to trickle down like little pearls.

As I rush back to the room in a complete state of panic and confusion, I grab my phone. With tremble fingers that are soaked from my tormented tears, I flip the screen up and dial Ana’s number.

“Fuck!”

There is a chill that runs down my spine as there is nothing but silence on the other side.

The phone is dead…

Ana is gone…

Then that is when it catches my eye; in the kitchen, on top of the counter, there is a white envelope. As I take it in my hands, I can see my name is neatly written on it in her very own handwriting.

The tears start flowing freely as the sobs take hold of what was left of my restraint. With trembling lips, I pull the white paper from the envelope. Slowly unfolding it, my heart breaks, and it breaks with a grand explosion.

With unsteady knees, I sit back onto the bed and softly speak as I start to read,

“Ethan,

I could’ve never imagined this would’ve happened. I would have never thought that you could possibly do me so wrong that I physically felt too sick to my stomach to even stand up. I should put all the blame on you; meanwhile, part of me wants to blame myself. Why did I ever let you in? Why did I ever open up to you? Why did I let you see every part of me that you never even deserved to see? Why did I feel safe trusting you? Why did I let you have so much control over my life and my well-being? I don’t get it. I don’t get you.

You know, it’s kind of funny; at times like this, I would be crying, but in this case, I think I’m just too overwhelmed to just express one emotion at a time. I think overall, I can say I’m furious.

Furious at the fact that you thought it was okay just to break my heart.

Furious at the fact that you took advantage of all my love for you.

Furious at the fact that you think you can walk into my life when it’s convenient for you.

But the most furious at the fact that you, unfortunately, know me. That I could never take back, along with every spot on my body, you’ve ever laid a finger on.

You made me look foolish to everybody, not only tonight but all the times before as well. I never knew what true heartbreak was until you came along and showed me firsthand. I’ve been lied to, taken as a joke, and been fucking cheated on with no explanation at all, and I’m still trying to see the best in you. Still trying to figure out what made you want to tear me apart. Why? I’m still trying to love like I’ve never been hurt. Why? That says a lot about my character, and what you put me through says a lot about yours.

I don’t think there will ever be a time where I will forgive you and what you have done. All the damage you have done to me mentally. Making me break down my mind, body, and soul. Not giving a fuck about my own well-being. An apology will never do it.

I hope hurting me was worth it.

I hope losing me was worth it.

I hope that whore you fucked at Ray was worth it.All content © N/.ôvel/Dr/ama.Org.

I hope my name tastes like poison when it comes out of your mouth and your heart stings when you hear it.

In the end, I hope everything you put me through was well worth it. Because I’ve slipped right through your grip, and you will never get me back. The girl who has nothing but self-love and confidence when she wakes up in the morning. That now, even though it took a long time, she realizes her worth and will never let anybody take advantage or walk all over her ever again.

It is a shame you didn’t appreciate what you had until it was gone.”

What the fuck is she on about?

How many times do I need to tell her that I did not cheat on her? But to go as far as saying that I am the one that has ruined her. Where does she come up with that?

But putting that all aside, I don’t care that she thinks that I have been her undoing, but what I do care about is that she has fucking taken my son with her.

I told her very plain bluntly that she should not even consider trying to keep Lucas from me. Well, it seems that she did not take well to my warning. She has overstepped a line that I am afraid cannot be taken back.

She has now made me the worst type of man.

She has taken my child, and for that, she will pay.