Little cool hydrogen and oxygen molecules playfully dance down together from cotton candy substances in the sky. They sprinkle my slight frame and slide down my white wash blue jeans, causing them to become unevenly poka-dotted with dark navy blue splotches.

My body quivers rhythmically in time to the pitter-patter of small water balloons braking on the firm black concrete that surrounds me. I study the rainbow umbrella that sits limply in my right gloved hand, but make no move to use it for its usual purpose.

My violet colored eyes watch as countless green, brown, and navy splattered vehicles come into view. I feel the corners of my face try to mimic, the many happy strangers expressions with whom I am waiting with.

I feel myself stuck in an unknown formation, only a dot in a sea of neat rows and straight lines; these ranks of relatives’ stripe the strong sturdy air base to which we are all standing.

Grandmothers, mothers, and children wait patiently with sweet angelic like expressions while they hold their dull practical umbrella’s upward toward the crying sky, shielding themselves from the many gloomy days, spent alone in sadness fearing for their loved one’s safety.

I resist the urge to thrust my shelter up too, but for to me it is a crime to block nature’s sweetest healing balm, the droplets that help to give life. I soon feel a small gentle tug at my index finger of my left hand; five little plump fingers cling to me tightly, full of trust.

I am instantly reminded of the beautiful creature, standing at my side covered in a miniature fuchsia rain coat, whose stature reaches, only at most, up to my kneecap. As the last bus rolls in, a command is heard on the loud speakers, the drivers are to open the bus doors in sync, and as I hear this I am once again made aware of the purpose for which I came.

My eyes start to search for bus number thirteen, my lucky number. My heart skips a beat as I see in the far left hand corner two strong black warn numbers; numbers that I know like the back of my hand.

Thirteen, thirteen, thirteen, this number sounds in my head and connects perfectly in time with the beat of my lonely thumping heart. I can still picture his strong angular face, striking coal black hair, his contrasting soft blue eyes, and his athletic build. I still remember strongly the day we met, almost as if it had happened yesterday.
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Flash back……. four years in the past….. To high school, my senior year. It was the first lab of the year in my absolute worst class, Chemistry; as I came through the wooden doors and into the lab room I carefully dodged a yellow water spill warning sign and I began my task of picking the perfect partner.

Just as I had thought of the ideal person, my teacher made the horrible announcement, this, I believe, is the statement that changed my life; he declared that as a senior bonding experiment, each of us would pair up with someone who was different from us, or someone whom we’d never met.

On top of this we had exactly five minutes to find that contrasting someone, or else we would score a zero for the entire semester. This meant I was going to have to break out my shell ultra-quick, and find a partner in less than five minutes, funny how quickly winter brake fever can come on, and ironically I was one of the few people on the planet who actually looked forward to school.

As I glanced nervously around the class room, I realized I couldn’t pick anyone from the first two rows because they were all people I knew fairly well from my other AP and honors classes.

I was beginning to become desperate when all of a sudden I felt a strong hand gently tap me on my shoulder. As I whirled around to face the unknown person, I slipped over the puddle of water, yes the very same one I had so carefully avoided moments earlier.

Immediately, I felt my balance falter, and in a split second I realized I was falling straight onto hard tile floor of the science lab and right into the running for senior class klutz. At the last moment, I felt strong caring arms reach for me, and big hands wrap tightly around my petit stomach, pulling me into a large bear hug.

Then to add to my utter astonishment I heard a deep friendly voice call out with concern,

“Are you alright? I knew someone was bound to slip over those devious hydrogen and carbon dioxide molecules sooner or later!”

“Excuse me?” I questioned in a surprised tone, “Come again?” in moments I heard rumbles of deep hearty laughter arise from my rescuer. Finally, when he was able get air back into his lungs he choked out,

“Hydrogen and Carbon molecules are just a scientific way of saying water!”As he spoke these words I reluctantly pulled away from his embrace and turned to confront him.

“Oh, uh, I guess I knew that, at some point of my life!” I squeaked nervously after realizing this guy was seriously cute, “I know you’ll find this entirely hard to believe,” I quickly added, “but I’m the smart type in everything but my nemesis, Science.” He laughed again, and replied,

“Can you be my lab partner? I have a feeling we’ll create ‘perfect’ chemistry!” He laughed again, and right then and there I knew we would be together. @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
I feel my mouth incoherently form the beginnings of a smile, this is a foreign feeling to me, in itself, and a great surprise, for this feeling has scarcely come over me in the past eighteen months, twelve days, and eight hours; precisely the moment he left.

As I wait, close to soaked through, from the mist, I shiver to think how our long awaited reunion would be like. My mind begins to play and replay the many possible ways it will go; will he hug me, kiss me, ask what I’m doing here, or will he even recognize me, after all, these past few months I have under gone a tremendous amount of stress.

Raising your own daughter single handedly is not at all an easy task. Though it is entirely more than worth it; which brings me to the biggest question, will he like her? What will he say?

We’ve been married these two years, and yet I’ve never known the right way to tell him, we have a beautiful daughter. It obviously blatant, he’s her father; from the top of her striking raven hair to her already forming athletic build, she is a feminine version of him, I have only her eyes to claim, violet like the color of a quiet pansy.

My time for wondering is over, for here come the camouflaged men walking down from the busses in perfectly straight lines, each foot matching foot, and all left arms swinging in time with the hundreds of other men.













How I wish he would step from his place in line and come running to me. All this order and precision are beginning to get on my sensitive nerves, then again when you’re out in a battle if you’re not organized and don’t move in sync with your unit you cause yourself to become an easy target, someone who can be picked off or destroyed quickly.












As the men each give one last synchronized solute, they are released ordered to disperse. At once my eyes find him, his old comical face is gone, and in its place is an expression that has seen much pain, violence, and dying; though despite this his strong features are the picture of strength and determination.

His crystal blue eyes lock with mine, and he begins his purposeful walk back to me, and back into my life. I feel a slight stinging in my nose and throat, and my eyes try to join in with the healing rain.

Hurriedly, I wipe aside my feelings, slap on my supper sham smile, and begin my façade; the same one I’ve been pulling off ever since he left.













I can see him now only foot steps away; he throws aside his strong military walk, and brakes into a full on sprint right up to me, tossing me off my balance and into his unfailingly strong arms. I’m spinning round and round, it’s as if he were superman trying to reverse the time back eighteen months, trying to save me from the strong pain I have under gone alone.

I close my eyes and block out all noises and other distractions. I sink into his chest and feel the stream of emotions began to flow. Then at last the spinning ends, he gently sets me down, and I find him staring intently at the mysterious girl by my side.













He looks at me briefly, his eyes full of love and question, I nod my head with proud confirmation, and he begins to beam at her. In moments, he’s tossing her around effortlessly like a pansy caught in a strong gust of wind.

I hear his deep rough voice whisper in her delicate ear,

“My own little bubblegum girl; how I’ve dreamed of meeting you!”She’s laughing uncontrollably now, our daughter, it’s her first real laugh, sweet and mellifluous like little chiming silver bells.

My eyes begin to prickle, and I feel water droplets mix with tears poor down my face, the mask I’ve tried to wear, has been washed away forever. I watch tirelessly as he envelopes her small frame, hiding her in the folds of his uniform.

Feelings of utter happiness course through my veins, sending strength and spreading the bubbly sensation of love throughout my sleight warn frame.

“Don’t worry I’ll be strong.” I choke out defiantly as I watch my daughter and my husband, the two people I love most meet and embrace for the first time.

“Honey,” he responds, his voice filled with emotion, “I’m here, I’m here now, you don’t have to be strong enough, for I’m here to stay, and as long as I’m here I can be strong enough for the three of us.” He’s gentle eyes meet mine as he sets our daughter down, one of his large hands reaches for her little one, and my cool hand magically finds its way into her tiny steady hand. We are connected intimately now, the three of us bound tightly together forming our own family molecule, two hydrogen atoms, a strong black one, and a warn pansy tinted one, sandwiched tightly around a little fuchsia oxygen molecule; to form water, the source of life and promise, the perfect element, the strongest form of chemistry ever created.