The Nightmare

It's a sensation that only those who have experienced it can understand… It has no definition. There is no word big enough to describe its power. It's just a feeling so profound that you can't define it.

And every time, I react the same way, filling my mind with the pettiest things to keep me distracted from what's actually going on. Sometimes I focus on scrubbing last night's dinner off of a pan until it looks like new. Today, I bought these cheesy nightlights that change color when you walk by. My thoughts are swirling with motion-activated lights instead of pondering what I'm going to do without him. It's always more manageable that way.

It's constantly a mental battle between the meaningless vs. significant, a scapegoat choreographed to protect my real feelings. It's a charade so that my husband Elliott doesn't see what I'm going through. Recognizing the pain would make it more complicated for him too. Neither of us wants to acknowledge that his absence is tormenting, so neither of us does. Saying goodbye to my most genuine love, my other half, is never easy.

I kneel down to mess with the plug of the new nightlight as I listen to the shuffling of his giant duffle bag. That bag is bound to have seen more life than anyone I've ever met. As soon as the prongs hit the plug, the light detects my movement. It shines against my skin, illuminated in blue.

Elliott is finally ready to go and standing over me as I procrastinate. Will messing with this nightlight an extra second give me more time with him?

He gently clears his throat while I gather my last messily thoughts until I'm able to pull myself to look at him. The bright light from the glass door behind him highlights his form. I notice his ears sticking out beneath his field cap. Elliott's shoulders are square from his uniform, and the daunting duffle bag is lopsided by his combat boots.

I meet him standing to say, "Look, I got a light so we can see in the dark. It'll help with the babies' midnight snacks."

He smiles with a guard covering his emotional strain, "It's nice."

"It changes colors when you walk by," I add as if the chitchat would cover-up that I'm fighting back tears.

We pause and wait for the light to fade from inactivity.

"Corey, it's time." He states hesitantly. Elliott doesn't want to recognize our heartbreak either.

"I love you," I say profoundly as he leans down to kiss me.

Elliott picks up his bag, and I scoop up our infant son to quietly follow him out to the car. He takes an extra minute loading his things into the back of his truck then meets me at the driver's door. Our son, who's oblivious to the situation, coos at the sight of his father. The baby holds his finger as Elliott shows a more authentic grin that quickly diminishes with apprehension.

He hoists himself into the truck then leans his head out of the window for another kiss. With tears gathering on each of my bottom eyelids, I say, "Please be careful."

Elliott frowns as soon as he notices me confronting him, going somewhere incredibly dangerous and far away. His expression reads that he's aware that he might not make it home, but his stubbornness keeps his words in check. Finally, Elliott answers, "I'll be okay."

After exchanging "I love you" yet again, I help Jayden wave to his dad. Then he pulls away and is soon out of sight.

I stand with the baby, watching the barren road. The tears that moisten the bottom rim of my eyes turn to droplets staining my cheeks. My sniffling nose allows emotions to catch up to the trifling diversions, and I cry.

I place the baby in his cradle when I get inside and make my way through the desolate house. Even though he's just been gone for a few minutes, I feel hollow. Every passing hour seems a bleak as the next, and the worst part is, he hasn't even truly left yet, but my heart is already empty. I never know how long he will be gone or if he will return; I never know if I'll hear from him or if that encounter we just had was our last.

Controlling my thoughts is the hardest. I dip into the day we met, the place in my life, and how this incredible person looked beside himself to see me when I was at my worst. I was stuck in an abusive relationship with no one to turn to. Then, I found tranquility in someone when I least expected. When so few understood what our love stood for, he was always there to show me it was worth it, that I was the brightest star in his life.

When night falls, the loneliness feels even worse. Elliott is always here to put my mind at ease when the dark past comes creeping in. Highlighting the abuse, the triumph, and escape from the scary realities of before. When I quiver and wonder if I'll ever be in that sort of danger again, I always have this blanket of comfort in Elliott. He is always here to wrap me in his arms and tell me that it's all over. But when he's gone, the anxiety reacts like a bolder rolling uncontrollably down a steep incline, gaining speed with each wild turn.

I haven't stopped crying; my heart hasn't calmed since I heard him do the final zip to his old luggage. It's a feeling that only those who have experienced such heartache can understand.

The baby cries out for me, and I go to him, "I'm going to fix you something to eat."

Talking to the baby is one of my only instants of comfort. Seeing his innocent hope helps me breathe for a moment like life is worth it past my inner sorrows.

Jayden's little voice livens the bleak, dark house as I make my way towards the kitchen. Just as I pass the nightlight, the room illuminates in red. The light's automatic reaction nearly makes me want to jump out of my skin. Yet, somehow, noticing it there makes me feel a little more secure like the darkness will not consume me, nor is the solitude.

As I rummage through the kitchen to find the right bottle, I notice a cracking sound. It's what always happens when Elliott creeps up on me in the night because the baby has awakened us both. The noise is precisely how he joins me in the kitchen to take on the task of excusing me off to bed. Hearing it is immediate comforting until reality checks in.

I stand with my back to the opened house as I let the warm water from the dispenser fill up the right amount of ounces. Warmth rushes over my body as I feel eyes watching me. But no one is standing there when I turn over my shoulder to check. The nagging past taints my present. Why must I focus on so much previous negativity in moments I need the most support?

With a few shakes of Jayden's bottle, I watch the house out of instinct. A gentles breeze catches my attention when I notice an opened window just beside the couch. The night sky is almost just as chilling as the draft coming from the opening. Using all of my weight, I bring the window down and lock it.

The window is never opened; Elliott wouldn't have left it that way, how, why- there we go again, steamrolling with the thoughts that overtake my consciousness. I shake my head as I convince myself that it's just an opened window, although my gut protests.

I take a deep breath and scoop up the bottle noticing that the room beside me is illuminated with a green light. When I passed it before the light was red, I am confident that it was red. The green light fades with the understanding that I am not alone.

"Hello?" I question, "Is anyone there?"

There is no response.

My heart beats loudly. I back up to the wall and speak aloud, "I know you're there."

The baby is crying, but his call isn't the alarm. I tiptoe while sliding my back against the wall as I make my way to our son.

"Come on, I know you're there; just leave, and I won't have to call the cops," I make another announcement.

The same creak from the old floorboard sends a piercing shiver down my spine. I turn with haste to spy a shadow move against the bright room that now shows purple. With such visual confirmation, I begin to run straight towards the baby.

Loud, heavy footsteps dash towards me as I race for the bedroom.

As soon as I reach the room, I slam the door, locking it swiftly. I snatch up the baby and cradle him in my arms, this time tears running down my cheeks from panic.

The bedroom door is locked, and the baby is tucked safely between my arms. Suddenly someone's arm wraps around my mouth. He tugs at me, twists my struggling body, and pushes me forward. I stumble out of his grasp and onto the floor with the baby tumbling down beside me. As I scramble to get back on my feet, the man wraps his hands around my neck. I attempt to inhale over and over, I can't get any air-

Gasp!

Air shoots into my lugs. It floods in so quickly as if I've never known its sensation. I exhale.

It's morning, the birds are chirping, and the baby is sound asleep at the cradle that rests at my feet. Just beside me is Elliott's empty space. It's where he would usually lay, where I'd usually wake him up and kiss him good morning. But the area is open.

I peel myself out of bed to question, "Elliott?"

He doesn't answer. I mope with a deep breath as I study the trinkets around our room. Just beside the bed are pictures. The first is our wedding. There is another of the baby's first photoshoots. And tucked far to the back of those is Elliott in uniform. I pick up the frame and hold it gently in my hand, feeling every emotion from sorrow to pride and wondering if seeing him dressed like that will ever give me a different reaction.

The sound of a dropping pot steals my attention. My heart pumps rapidly as I jump to my feet to investigate.

My husband is standing in the kitchen in grey, draw-string sweat pants and an old white shirt. I feel lighter than air at the sight of him when he curiously turns over his shoulder to see me standing there. I meet him in one of the most heartfelt hugs I've ever given as tears fall once more.

"What's this all about?" He laughs with a welcoming grin.

"I love you!" I announce.

"I love you too," He agrees and laughs out of confusion but embraces me deeply. "What's wrong?"

I pull away from him and beam, "Just a nightmare."

He nods while cooking us each an egg.

We both understand the depth of the comment without having to address it. Elliott has only been back for a few weeks, and each time I lay eyes on him, I feel like I'm falling in love all over again. Although I haven't forgotten the emotion of saying goodbye, seeing him here and now sends an entirely new sensation. It's a feeling only those who have experienced it will ever know- a sense of harmony, pride, and love unmatched by anything else in the world.