Words your father never told you.

“I love it when you do that.” I whispered into his ear, and his grip tightened around me.
“Do what?” He gasped.
“That.” And I tucked my head into the same place I always did. Just below his collarbone, just above his ribs.
I didn’t need to tell him, and that’s why I loved him. It’s wasn’t just one thing I loved about him in that moment. I loved his voice, and the calmness it contained, even when he was sure to face death sooner rather than later. I loved his smile, and the way it could lift my mood from low and weary, to amused and forgiving of all the people who had brought my day down. And his eyes, I loved his eyes. A shade of blue I had yet to encounter in my seventeen years. Perhaps it was just everything else that I loved that made this simple, subtle, feature seem so much more intriguing, but nevertheless; I loved them.
“Come home to me.” I begged, at no point caring if I was being selfish or not.
He stepped back and took in a long deep breath, “I’ll try.”
That answer wasn’t good enough. I didn’t want him to try. I wanted him home. He hadn’t even left yet, and I wanted him home. Trying, required putting himself in danger, a danger I had only witnessed in nightmares. Bombs dropping, children screaming, the whole operation organized by the United States government.
“I’m scared,” I bellowed. I had trained myself for three days prior to this. I would think of him leaving, and even if I only felt one small tear run down the side of my face, I would make myself feel guilty for it. He is doing what he thinks is right. I would constantly tell myself, simultaneously smacking the side of my head in frustration.
And then he said something I didn’t expect to ever hear him say in his life, “I’m scared too.”
Suddenly a black cloud floated over the exact place we had been saying our goodbyes. It was the first time he had ever been scared. He was always strong, and always led me through the dark ally ways, and pushed away all my fears that shadowed over me through life.
It hurt, to see the pain in his eyes. Pain, like leaving me was taking half of his heart away, if only he knew. My life would not be the same after he left. My days, they’d be longer. My breaths, they’d be deeper, longer, and with each exhale, I would feel my heart breaking just a little more. He would have things to do, and keep his mind, as well as body, busy. I would just lay in bed all day, and write, just a few sad songs or poems.
“I have to go.” He began to draw his body away from mine.
“How about you just stay?” I pushed up against him, close enough to feel a laugh escape from his lips, and then I looked up. In one day, one hour nearly, I had seen so much more of him than I had seen of him in the past two years we had been together.
Tears began to run from his eyes. Any other day I would call him a baby and mutter something like, “You can’t cry, you’re a marine!”. But these words brought tears to my eyes just thinking about saying them.
He pushed me away, and leaned down for a kiss. A rush of emotion over took my body, and I turned my face away in disgust. “Look, I know you want me to stay, but I’m gone in an hour whether you like it or not.” His words bitter and filled with anger.
So I walked away.
He turned and did the same.
“I’ll be back.” He yelled from the end of my driveway.
“Okay Terminator!” I screamed back, and stopped facing my front door. If I could, I would collapse right here, but I prefer to pass out in my comfortable bed.
There was a presence behind me, but before I could turn around something fell around my neck. I touched the cold metal and traced the rectangular outline. Strong hands gripped each of my forearms and turned me around. Before I could refuse, he kissed me. Long and hard.
I knew my mother was watching from the front window, but for once I didn’t care. I didn’t care if she disapproved. I didn’t care if she thought I was wasting my time. I didn’t care if she found our acts of public displays inappropriate.
“Bye.” He turned towards the cab that had been waiting for at least twenty minutes.
And I stood silent on my front porch until the cab pulled away, and made it’s way down the street. I probably stood there without saying a word, or having to wipe a tear away from my dry face, until the cab dropped him off at the airport.
“Castel?” My mothers usual whisper was softer and less bitter than usual. Hearing my full name made me finally breakdown and start crying. No one used my full name, except my mom when I was in trouble.
In the past two years, the only other person to call me Castel was Brody. All my other friends just called me Stell, or Cass. But in all honesty, that was all it took. My mother calling me by my full name.
Before she could walk me through the front door, my knees gave out. My breaths grew deep and staggered. And everything went black.