Me and you have been married for 4 years now. Dang.... we're kinda old. Anyways, me and you are both retired from the military. In my opinion, it's for the best. The PTSD I have is bad. So is yours, but mine comes up more. The nightmares are terrible. I see people die, and the gunshots. God, the gunshots. That's what scares me. I'm scared that, one day, I'll be in a dream and I can't wake up. My worst fear is seeing you there. I can't stand the thought of you dying on me. My life would be worthless without you. So, instead of going to sleep, I've been staying up. I know you've told me how much you dislike it, but then again, you don't own me...... all the way-you didn't see that. Right now I'm on the couch, watching a T.V show instead of going to sleep. I have an energy drink on the counter by me, and I'm fighting to keep my eyes open. I check my phone, and the time is 2:45. I've been getting a maximum of 3 hours of sleep in the past few days. The nightmares are unberable, and I have too much pride to go to therapy. You've suggested it, but I think it's kinda weird to tell someone you don't tell your family all the time. Moving on. I hear footsteps on the stairs, and my hand goes to my gun until I feel hands in my hair. You. You're the only person I know who goes to my hair first. I look up at you and I smile tiredly.

"Why aren't you in bed, my love? It's late, and you need sleep."

I kiss your plam softly and the fingerpad of your index and middle finger.