#deploymentdiaries

[neryeleanor]

Deployment isn’t always about danger.

Sometimes it’s about small sacrifices no one sees.

Eating meals you can’t stomach because it’s what’s available.

Staring at a phone with bad network, missing voices you love.

Learning patience in places where comfort is limited.

We give up ease so others don’t have to.

And somehow, we keep going — quietly, faithfully, proudly.

[deploymentdiaries]

There we stood. At the gate for his flight for what is to be an almost year long military assignment. The night before there were a lot of tears shed; we both cried that it wasn’t fair to be across the country from each other. We watched all the movies that mean so much to us together, cuddled on the couch, and just content that we’d be around each other. That was a good night that I hold onto the memory of.

Now, in that moment standing there, I couldn’t think about that. All I was thinking about was these were my final moments with him. In the middle of an almost empty airport wearing a mask. Finally, it was that dreaded moment, his group was called and it was that look in his eyes. The misty eyed look that I hated seeing on his face; the last time he had it was when I went to my parents’ house the night before our wedding. This time, we’d be on different coasts. That one last hug felt like the most bittersweet one. Before he took off (my ETA home was after his flight took off), he texted me this: Don’t cry. I am trying to keep it together.

The tears actually started to fall as I drove home. People started texting me to ask if I was okay. I said I was but that was a lie. All I wanted to do was go home and curl up in a ball. My heart was aching and it hurt. I had to pull it together; my roommate was home after all. That’s what I did but finally when she left for work, I stopped. There I was on my couch in the midst of an ugly cry session and in sadness overload. I remember that I was watching ‘Westworld’ and by the time that episode was done, I could stop the tears. It was when my husband texted: ‘Eat something. I know you’re not hungry but you need to. It’s not good’ that I felt the pain again. I forgot that he knew that when my anxiety is high, then I won’t eat anything. He called me to say he was at his hotel safe. The crying happened again; that’s when bed time became a good idea (I assure you it wasn’t).

I stared at my bed like it was the enemy; this was my first time not feeling his body heat. There it was again, the crying and the loud sobs. I read an article saying something along the lines of if you’re crying this much on the first night then you know you truly love who you’re married to and that it leaves room for inner strength to grown. Yeah, I didn’t believe in that moment. No, I’d rather have him on his phone with his strong arms wrapping my upper body. Not this. I think I finally fell asleep at 10:30.

This all happened yesterday. Right now, in this time of a pandemic, a new normal is what I was getting used to. The thought that runs through my head right now: Every day and night that goes by brings me one day closer to him giving the warmest hug he can. The next time I’m at that airport is to pick him up and bring him home. There’s still a long way to go before that and a lot of inner strength and growth to develop.

[tuesdayroo]

When you’ve been apart from your person for 7+ months, life becomes one continuous stream of unresolved sexual tension and like, dreams start getting real weird.