Passion

 Im not quite sure how you come to a point in your marriage when you start to wonder if it will always be this way. When I met my husband I knew that he was the man that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I knew that he was a gentle man. I knew that he was a strong man. I knew that he was a man that would stand up for what he believes in. I never thought of myself as a sexually risk taking woman. However, The first time I had sex with my husband I did not use a condom. This was very unlike me. I felt a connection to him from the first time I spoke to him. I think that somehow God knows who you are meant to be with. I knew the minute that I kissed my husband for the first time, that I would be with him forever. For the first time in my life, I felt passion. I felt a burning fire deep inside me that I prayed would never go out. Mike ignited a presence in me that when I am with him I can not cover up. When he smiles at me I feel pride. I feel the same pride when I pick up my weapon. I feel the same pride and joy when I stand waiting for a convoy brief. I feel this burning desire to run through the streets ripping people up by the neck to find out who put the grenade in the kids hands. I feel the cold steel of the shot gun and I feel it. I feel a since of excitement. The sense of excitment  I get with the thought of killing someone that hurt a fellow Soldier, or stopping one IED from going off, or driving down a road looking for bombs so my buddies don't get hurt, or even standing in a guard stand double checking the ammo on the 240 with the hopes of firing it just to smell the gun powder is the close to the excitment that I get from the thought of passion I have with my husband. I long for the day when I can distingush the differance.