More than a Memory

Hand in hand, they sat together on the rocky beach, watching the blood-red sunset. Seagulls bobbed lazily on the waves. They're so free, he thought. If only we could switch places, even just for one day. Just one day would be enough. Lately, all of his thoughts seemed to take the form of a plea. If only this line would move faster, I could spend more time with her. If only my hometown weren't the one that was hit, I might have less of a personal stake in all this. If only I hadn't met her. If only I hadn't fallen in love. If only, if only, if only... things might be easier. But they weren't.

Two fighter jets shot across the sky, scattering the birds. Beside him, his fiancée didn't react. She kept her gaze on the horizon, unwavering. The knot in his stomach grew larger. Dread was wrapping itself around and around his body like a boa constrictor and squeezing, crushing him. She adjusted her fingers interwoven with his and leaned in closer, resting her head against his shoulder and closing her eyes. He wanted to stroke her hair, kiss her, hug her—but he was frozen.

His heart was hammering in his chest like a wild beast banging itself against the bars of its cage in blind terror. He tried to wrangle all the ferocious animals—his emotions—back under control. He imagined himself at a zoo, where all the cages had been unlocked simultaneously. Some animals stayed in their cages. Some fled. Some attacked with claws and teeth. There was chaos as people screamed and fled in terror. He imagined shooting the animals with tranquilizer darts and their bodies going limp, calm. Everything will be alright; we'll get you back in your cages.

"Lola, I'm going to fight," he blurted out. He felt her body stiffen next to his, and she yanked her hand away from his. She turned to face him, her eyes wide.

"What do you mean fight?"

"I'm going back. To the military." He said quietly.

"Did they ask you to come back?" She asked breathlessly, rage simmering just barely below the surface.

"No."

"No." She repeated back, quietly, seething. She looked back at the horizon. "You can't do this, it's not safe. You're retired, for God's sake, and they offered to keep you safe. Don't you know how special you are for them to go to such lengths to protect you like that? Let someone else fight."

He couldn't look her in the eye. "I need to do this."

She scrambled to her feet. "No, you don't! What you need to do is acknowledge what you're doing to me!" She wobbled on the uneven rocks, and his hand shot out to steady her.

"Lola, please be careful, some of these rocks are sharp."

"Be careful? You dare say that to me now, when you're going to war? It would be one thing if you were drafted, but you're choosing this. And after everything, after everything... you're ripping my heart out." She began to cry.

Dread released him from its grip, and grief replaced it. He reached out to her again, but she only sobbed.

"The memories we've made," he said, his voice thick with emotion, "are what will keep me going. I wouldn't replace them for the world. You are so special to me, you have to believe that."

"I want more than a memory!" she shrieked. "You are replacing... replacing me with war. Once a soldier, always a soldier, is that it?"

"No, Lola, I—I don't want to do this, I'd rather stay with you. I wish this war weren't happening, but I can't ignore it. I just can't ignore it."

"There must be a part of you that wants it, because you're choosing it, aren't you?" She sneered.

"I am choosing it because I want to help people; this is bigger than us. This is the safety of the world that's at stake, millions of people's lives, you know that. And you know me, I have to do something. I can't just sit around when other people can use my help."

"Sitting around, is that what you call spending the rest of your life with me? You're the one who asked me to marry you! You're the one who asked me to open my heart to you, to be vulnerable again after so many years. You know how my first husband died...I never thought I'd have to go through this again."

He didn't reply. He knew she would react like this, knew there was no easy way to tell her. He let her cry, hoping the shock and potent mixture of all the rest of her emotions would subside. He tried to name them all: Rage, grief, disappointment, betrayal, confusion, fear...

"Lola," he started again, gently. "I know you're angry, angry with me and angry with the war. And—"

"What if you die?" she whispered.

"Then I'll be dead." She seemed to accept this answer, defeat showing in her sagging shoulders. "And I know that when I die, it doesn't matter when or how, I'll be at peace. I'll be at peace because I'll be thinking of you, of how lucky I am that I got to meet you, to live life with you. I'll be at peace because it wouldn't matter if we got one more day together or ten more years—I would always want more, more time with you." His throat was burning with emotion, and he choked on his words. "It will never be enough, and at the same time, every moment is enough."

Her tears were silent now as he broke down sobbing. She moved towards him and gathered him in her arms. "You always say the most beautiful things." She said, smiling up at him.

"Because it's true! That's how I feel about you!"

She smiled so big that it pierced his heart, and he caught his breath. "I feel the same way about you." Her smile started to fade, and he ached to see that grin again. "But, you already know that. We were going to get married."

"We still can." His voice cracked.

She broke eye contact with him to look at the horizon again. "Sure, we still can." She said softly. Her eyes had glazed over, like they weren't taking in the image of what she was looking at. For a moment, she was far away. They both knew it was unlikely that he would return alive. But nobody was going to say it out loud.

"Hey," he said. "Let's at least make another good memory for the road."

She scowled at him playfully, and he smiled back, relieved that she was still in there, that there was still light in her eyes.

"Alright," she said, and they took each other's hands again.

If only there were more time...