Farewell to my Marine

It was in the way he exhaled

A heavy sigh that seemed to fill up the hole where my insecurities dwelled

But air was fleeting and did not suffice.

How could I ever?

How could he? 

Is this thought process even rationale? 

Because the way I had lived my life was around the notion of being honest -

Approximately operating at ninety-eight percent currently.

Toes dipped into the air that felt like water.

I was drowning. 

But this had to happen.

He was leaving. 

I had to be operating at one hundred percent honesty.

"I like you." seemed to escape from my lips.

This was followed by an immediate overwhelming sense of warmth

But not in the way I had intended or wanted.

Anxiety and exhaling followed.

Continued.

My mind was running a 10k at 100 miles per hour.

"Yeah, me too," he mumbled.

Thank goodness for operating at one hundred percent.