After six long months in the field, the mission was finally over. The military base was bustling with anticipation as we stood in our neat rows, boots planted firmly on the tarmac. The sun was beginning to set, casting a golden hue over everything. The air buzzed with the sound of approaching footsteps and the murmur of excited whispers. I was back, but my mind wasn’t fully here. It was with you.

I’d missed you more than I could put into words. Those long nights under the stars, the grueling days filled with uncertainty and danger, the constant hum of anxiety—through it all, the thought of you kept me grounded. Your smile, your touch, the way your eyes lit up when you saw me; these memories were my sanctuary.

The commanding officer gave the signal, and the gates opened. Families began pouring in, scanning the rows for their loved ones. My heart raced as I tried to keep my composure, eyes flicking to each figure that came closer. My fellow soldiers were being tapped out one by one, their faces lighting up as they embraced their families, but I couldn’t see you yet.

Then, through the crowd, I spotted you. My heart skipped a beat. You were walking towards me, your eyes searching through the rows until they found mine. The world seemed to blur around us. I felt a lump in my throat, my stoic facade threatening to crumble.

You quickened your pace, and I could see the emotion in your eyes mirroring my own. As you reached me, you didn’t hesitate. You raised your hand and tapped me on the shoulder, the official signal that I was released from duty. But it was more than that. It was a tap that signalled the end of our separation, the end of those lonely nights and silent prayers.

I broke formation, stepped forward, and wrapped my arms around you, pulling you close. The smell of your hair, the warmth of your embrace—it was real. You were real, and I was home.

“God, I missed you,” I whispered, my voice cracking. You looked up at me, tears welling in your eyes, and I knew you had missed me just as much.