A year is a long time. The last year of my life has changed me. If I think about it these last 12 months have been, well, they've definitely been. I've planned a wedding, gotten married, moved out, moved in, graduated college, remade some friends, made some new friends, had my very first sex toy party, moved away, laughed til I cried, cried til I laughed and everything in between. The Army has moved us to Augusta, GA...Fort Gordon...Home of the Signal Corps. A state where I don't know a single soul. The Army is also taking my husband of 7 months to Iraq in January. To top it all, the Army has made me scared shitless of becoming a widow. I'm so panicked that I don't sleep at night, and if I do sleep its painful and sad. I knew it was inevitable, my husband is a soldier. He likes being a soldier. I like that he likes being a soldier. To many individuals are unhappy with their careers...how can I be upset that my husband enjoys his job? But this is war, and its his job. I was never really afraid until the day I knew that Nathan died. And even that is a tenous connection at best. We went to sixth grade together. Thats it. Just one year of junior high. But I KNEW him. He got a pencil stuck in my hair that had to be cut out, and gave me a mini-mohawk for a year afterward. Nathan of the brown hair and brown eyes. He got his Eagle Scout, married his college sweetheart, had a little boy, and was blown up by a roadside bomb in Febuary 2008. He's buried 28 spots from my grandmother. My husband and I have to make out a will. A "just in case". Excuse me Mr. Uncle Sam but fuck your "just in case". I haven't been married a goddamn year yet...I want the next 50 years of my life with this man. He is my other half. My complimentary angle. Even when I want to strangle him I know that I cannot live without him. I know life it is not guaranteed. I don't know how to cope...I don't know how to still get up everyday...I just don't know. 12 months, 52 weeks, 365 days. Thats how long I will be waiting. To afraid to breathe but to damn stubborn to ask for help. And he won't ever know. I can't tell him. He'll have enough to worry about...coming home safe to me.
- Current Mood: contemplative