"For the first time on the job, I was scared.
I was faced with a situation where my instincts were to turn and run.
But instead I walked toward the danger, gun drawn, not knowing what was going to happen."
He told me this not immediately after it happened, not the next time we talked, or even the next two times after that. He told me when he was ready to tell me.
As he spoke these words and the details of the events that had transpired I felt my heart rate spike. The bridge of my nose grew damp with gently falling tears. And my breathing changed rythm. But I kept strength in my voice as we spoke over the phone.
When I typically hear stories of his job, I don't hear his emotion. I only hear about his actions. I either have to decipher his emotion based on the way he is telling me the story or assume that he is super cop and is just rarely affected by what he sees, hears, and endures.
Having him spell it out to me the other night was almost haunting.
I told him that I was proud of him that in a split second he was able to acknowledge his feeling: fear, acknowledge his human instincts: leave danger, and yet allow his police training and duty to guide him through the needed actions.
Then I hung up the phone and sobbed out loud into my pillow. Because, for selfish reasons, I want him to run away...
But I married a warrior so I must be strong like he is.