It showed no favorites, no heart was left unharmed. My arms would ache at night sometimes. I’d imagine him out there—cold, sick, in danger. If us women had our way, maybe the fighting would’ve ended sooner. I think we could’ve reached an agreement long before the men did. How did they do it? Were we just that weak, that we’d have done anything to have them back again?

Granted, there were some women glad to see their men gone. And I grant that some men are better off gone away. But not me; not my man. He belongs close; he belongs near.

And now I’ll always have a little fear that I never knew before—the fear that he could be taken away. The good Lord saw fit to bring him back to me, and I bless His Name for it. But still, every night I beg that he never takes him away again. Sometimes, I jolt awake at night, thinking him being home is just a dream. But then I hear his steady breath and feel the warmth of his skin and I know it’s true. Just let him always stay, God, just let him always stay.