***
Recently, I've been getting comments on my blogs from readers I've never met. Now, as a writer, that is wonderful news because this means my thoughts and ideas are out in the world, being read by other people. In turn, I've checked out the writings of my commentators and found a few more blogs to add to my list. Actually, it seems that I've found a few ladies that I can relate too very well in what I go through as a military lover.
Now I know there are women out there who date, marry, and love our military men... but I never saw myself as one in the beginning. Yet, here I am, about to marry a Marine, with a deployment under my belt, understanding that the future is very open to anything. Not a day goes by when I am ecstatic that my Marine is here on U.S. soil again, even if he is miles away from me. What I don't realize everyday is that there are still women who do not have the same luxury as me. Their lovers are miles and miles and miles away from them missing birthdays, the birth of their children, holidays, ordinary days, and days with their soulmates. So much I take for granted in my own life because I'm starting to forget what last year was like.
There is still a great possibility that he will get shipped out again, we won't ever have any certainty until his contract is up, and even then he could get called back out. There is a great chance that I will be living in Jacksonville, this time his wife, and yet alone in our bed because he's in the great sandbox. Though I pray we never have to go through that again, we might and I won't know until the day hits.
Against all odds, last year brought us even closer together--connecting our emotions in ways we never though possible. A deployment is hard... sometimes I don't know whether it is harder on the men serving, or the wives left at home. All I know is that I am leaving in shortly over a week and I can't handle it. I'm not getting deployed or charging into a dangerous situation. I'm leaving to learn and to relax and to have fun but I almost can't bear to leave knowing I won't be able to talk with him for five weeks.
Five weeks... so short in this life and yet he was gone for twelve months. Some men leave for fifteen, eighteen, and miss so much barely clearly hearing the voice of the one they love on a weekly basis, if they are lucky. As I prepare myself to leave, trying to buy last minute items and packing my bag, I wonder how he did it. When I last saw him in May he sent his huge digi's bag home with me to travel with. It was the same bag he lived out of for a year. At one point, his life was confined within the zippers and how did he ever know that when he pulled out a week-old dirty shirt, that it wouldn't be the last time he wore it? I'll be packing several pairs of shoes and enough clothes to last me probably the whole trip, knowing I'll have it all when I get back. He had a few of everything. Enough to last a week or until he could wash the dirty ones. What did he wear when everything was dirty?
I drew a lavender bath tonight to try and relax and probably to try and avoid the inevitable of my leaving. I've wanted to go to Ireland since I was a little girl, and now that the chance is here, I almost can't go because I can't bear to leave my best friend behind. How could he have left knowing he might now come back to see my face? Courage, strength, and love is what he dressed in when everything else failed. And that's what I have to do. I have to hold on to the hope that though life is short, I will be granted more, especially the chance to live when I get back. I have to keep walking forward. My opportunity to travel has been given because of my freedoms, the one he fights for. I just have to pack my own courage, strength, and love.
Now I know there are women out there who date, marry, and love our military men... but I never saw myself as one in the beginning. Yet, here I am, about to marry a Marine, with a deployment under my belt, understanding that the future is very open to anything. Not a day goes by when I am ecstatic that my Marine is here on U.S. soil again, even if he is miles away from me. What I don't realize everyday is that there are still women who do not have the same luxury as me. Their lovers are miles and miles and miles away from them missing birthdays, the birth of their children, holidays, ordinary days, and days with their soulmates. So much I take for granted in my own life because I'm starting to forget what last year was like.
There is still a great possibility that he will get shipped out again, we won't ever have any certainty until his contract is up, and even then he could get called back out. There is a great chance that I will be living in Jacksonville, this time his wife, and yet alone in our bed because he's in the great sandbox. Though I pray we never have to go through that again, we might and I won't know until the day hits.
Against all odds, last year brought us even closer together--connecting our emotions in ways we never though possible. A deployment is hard... sometimes I don't know whether it is harder on the men serving, or the wives left at home. All I know is that I am leaving in shortly over a week and I can't handle it. I'm not getting deployed or charging into a dangerous situation. I'm leaving to learn and to relax and to have fun but I almost can't bear to leave knowing I won't be able to talk with him for five weeks.
Five weeks... so short in this life and yet he was gone for twelve months. Some men leave for fifteen, eighteen, and miss so much barely clearly hearing the voice of the one they love on a weekly basis, if they are lucky. As I prepare myself to leave, trying to buy last minute items and packing my bag, I wonder how he did it. When I last saw him in May he sent his huge digi's bag home with me to travel with. It was the same bag he lived out of for a year. At one point, his life was confined within the zippers and how did he ever know that when he pulled out a week-old dirty shirt, that it wouldn't be the last time he wore it? I'll be packing several pairs of shoes and enough clothes to last me probably the whole trip, knowing I'll have it all when I get back. He had a few of everything. Enough to last a week or until he could wash the dirty ones. What did he wear when everything was dirty?
I drew a lavender bath tonight to try and relax and probably to try and avoid the inevitable of my leaving. I've wanted to go to Ireland since I was a little girl, and now that the chance is here, I almost can't go because I can't bear to leave my best friend behind. How could he have left knowing he might now come back to see my face? Courage, strength, and love is what he dressed in when everything else failed. And that's what I have to do. I have to hold on to the hope that though life is short, I will be granted more, especially the chance to live when I get back. I have to keep walking forward. My opportunity to travel has been given because of my freedoms, the one he fights for. I just have to pack my own courage, strength, and love.
***
I know that some of you are going through a hard time, maybe a deployment, maybe getting to know one another again, maybe battling loneliness, moving on in life, or just searching. Whatever the feeling is in your life, take hold of the hope placed before you and maybe, just maybe draw a nice bubble bath. It's ok if the tears and the questions come because that helps us move forward. Without questions we wouldn't have anything to search for or to find. Without tears, we'd hold everything inside and wouldn't let go. We all face a deployment period in our life, you know that time when we feel like everything stops and everything is dirty? That's the time when hope is everything. That's the time when we can dress in nothing else. When all we have is courage, strength, and love.
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