To my Dear and Loving Husband (who I’ll see in 6 weeks)

Don’t know how to face you    
but I’ll face you just the same:    
being apart has made me strange      
a sickness with no name —      
     
How to explain    
what I really feel      
I don’t feel much these days      
I’m unsure how to deal.      
     
But there is shame!
Unrelenting shame  
rains from my eyes,  
     
“The indefinite delay game:    
Hurry up and wait”    
(The Army line!)    
     
Should I tell you a lie  
and say that I'm fine?    
     
How did mom survive    
when dad was in Iraq?      
Gone nine months    
at a time —    
not a quiver in her voice      
or longing gaze outside.    
     
I never saw her cry.    
Not even once.      

Not even on 9/11    
when dad had a meeting      
at the Pentagon    
and for hours      
we had no idea      
if he was alive or dead —      

not even fucking THEN    
did my mother cry.      
     
She was steel:    
     
I’m still learning to be real.