I started this blog, telling my friends that it was a way to cope with the emotions of my boo deploying. And I half-believed that reason.
But there's so much more to it than that. I'm completely disheartened by the lack of material on the internet addressing the concerns of the gay military. I mean, I've found articles about how messed up DADT is and one blog. And while the anti-DADT articles really fire up my argument muscles, they don't do much to comfort me. And the one blog I found... Well, it was about a lesbian couple dealing with a deployment - only they lied and cheated on each other and ended up getting a "divorce." So not much to relate to there.
This blog is partly for me, partly for my girlfriend (whom we shall now start calling Zee, because I've almost accidently typed her name several times now...), and partly for anyone else who is going through this and isn't able to speak out from fear of being "caught." Not that I really expect to get a lot of readers on this. But you never know! Even if one person finds this who is going through a similar situation, I'll be happy.
Another reason for writing this is dread. I know that eventually I'll stop missing Zee. Not in the sense that I don't love her anymore, but because I'll become adjusted to living without her. Her role as this disembodied voice and provider of letters will become normal. I understand this. I know it's coming. But I want to actively keep her a part of my daily routine. Whether it's writing in here, writing her letters, sending her packages, etc. Something, anything, to keep her on my mind, even when the rest of my life starts crowding in, demanding attention.
It sounds easy, you know? You love someone, they're amazing and beautiful and perfect (for you) and mesmerizing and all you want to talk about - of course you think of them all the time...
...because you're about to see them, call them, feel them.
I don't think it's like that when you can't see them, can't feel them, and calls... Well, those are unpredictable. Especially when she sleeps when I work, and she works when I sleep.
We'll just have to see. But I'm preparing for the worst. Give me some badges and call me a boy scout.
The final reason for this blog is my emotions. I know - I've already listed that. But when I initially told that to friends and family, it was flippant. It's expected. Girlfriend leaves, I'm upset, and I write it out.
What I wasn't expected was the quiet I felt when she left. The absence. I miss her, but I'm doing ok, I suppose. So, I start thinking that I'm doing fine. I cry when I miss her call, but it's so fresh. I mean, it's still only been two days! I noticed that when I was writing her letters, I was describing things I hadn't actually experienced yet during the deployment, only in our previous separations. So, I'm taking this really well right? I start to think that I'm writing this blog for only the two reasons mentioned above.
But then today happens, and I realize that I am a pathetic, emotional mess. I mean, ugh, really?? I've never been this way - with anyone, anytime, anyplace. Only death and alcohol could spur to me such theatrics. But I meet my girl, and suddenly I am flooded with hormones that only want to cry. It's embarrassing. Zee probably thinks that I'm fronting when I say that only a handful of people in my life have ever seen me cry, because it's all I've done since I've met her.
Pa-the-tic. <--- the reason why I've never been a crier
What was today? What horrendous act led to me sobbing in my car?
A guy was rude to me at the post office. Not just rude - mean-spirited. A Jerk. Went out of his way to point out my mistake even after I'd said I was sorry.
I was angry! I snubbed him back, checked out, and then proceeded to cry my way back to the car because he had "hurt my feelings."
I finally get myself back under the control at the Taco Bell drive-through. The check-out guy sees my red eyes, asks how my day is, and I said, "I've had better." And then he so sincerely wished my day to get better that I said a heartfelt "thank you" and, touched, proceeded to cry again.
Part of it was being hurt by a stranger, and then another part was being unable to immediately call Zee and cry to her about it. Later I sheepishly told her about it through IM (thank you, God, for modern technology), but that's not the same. Better than nothing, though!
In bad news, the Skype-capable phones we were promised by Verizon don't work. Stupid jerk of a salesman. He said we could get a $60/month data plan, purchase Skype-capable phones, and then chat unlimited as long as she was in one of Afghanistan's data zone things, which should be fairly likely. Well, the stupid jerk of a salesman didn't have a clue what he was talking about. Turns out that the Skype Mobile Applications only work on US networks. So we're going to have to figure something out once she reaches her final location and has a chance to settle in.
In good news, Skype calls compter-to-phone have worked and we talked for a broken hour yesterday morning and then for over an hour last night! The calls will probably not be so regular once she is working, but I will be more than happy to take what I can get.
And when night comes I can smile, because, I know that when I close my eyes, another day bites the dust.