"I'll come back, I promise," he whispered.

"Matt, you can't promise something like that," I retorted, hugging my boyfriend since childhood.

"I will, though. I won't let you down."

He kissed me gently, and I stared up into his eyes, tears in my own.

"You never will."

"Sanders, let's go!"

I pressed my lips to his and smiled sadly. "Matt, keep this with you."

He took the ring from my trembling fingers and put it on. He handed me the necklace he never took off.

"Don't forget me," he murmured.

"Never, never. I love you."

"I love you, too, baby."

We exchanged one last kiss, and he turned and walked away without looking back.

"I love you, Matt," I whispered and followed his parents out of the airport when he had disappeared from my sight.

The teacher gave me a hall pass so I could go to the bathroom. While in there, I leaned against the wall and cried. After a few minutes, I left the wooden block on the counter and ran out of the school. It had been a little over eight months since Matt had left, but the pain had yet to fade. When I got home, I grabbed the mail from the box and carried it inside. There was a letter from my boyfriend. I dropped everything but that one as I ripped open the envelope.

Hey, baby!
I miss you so much. It's horrible how much I wish I could be at home with you, being a normal teenager. I guess I gave that up when I enlisted. Please don't hate me, but I may not get to come home for a little lot longer than we'd hoped. I will come home, though. I can guarantee that. Nothing will keep me from coming back into your arms. Nothing, not even death.
Love, Matt.

I sighed and picked up the fallen letters, setting them on the counter. I took my message from Matt up to my room and flung myself onto my bed. The tears came quickly, and I clutched the letter to my chest, squeezing my eyes tightly shut. I dreamed of Matt's return.

.:.

"You shouldn't torture yourself like this," my mother whispers into the telephone.

"Like what, Mama?"

"Keeping the false hope of Matt ever coming back, alive."

I sigh; this is not an uncommon conversation between the two of us. "Mama, I know he will."

"You haven't received any form of contact from him in three years."

"I don't care!" I near shout, slamming my open palm down onto the counter, though I know she can't see my reaction. "He'll come home."

She sighs. "It's not healthy to entertain those thoughts. It'll cause you to have a mental breakdown. You'll need to get-"

"I'll call you back, Mama."

"We're not done talking."

"No, Mama, you don't understand. I'll call you back."

I let the phone clatter to the counter and run to the front door. I push open the screen and hurry outside.

"Matt!" I scream, jumping into his arms.

He catches me, kisses me, and whispers, "I told you I'd come home."

"Matt," I murmur, crying, "Matt..."

"Don't cry, baby."

"You're back."

"I'm home. Finally, I'm home."