The Soldier

And I will always do my duty, no matter what the price,
I've counted up the cost, I know the sacrifice,
Oh, and I don't want to die for you, But if dying's asked of me,
I'll bear that cross with honor, 'Cause freedom don't come free.
I'm an American Soldier, an American.

My sister married a Soldier.  I stood as her bridesmaid at the beginning of the summer, and at the end of the summer, I held her hand at his deployment ceremony.  A couple months after he left, I packed up my belongings and moved 341 miles away.  She opened her home to me.  It was one of the most amazing experiences I've ever been able to share with one of my sisters.

One night while working at my bar, I met two soldiers who were out celebrating.  Drunk people seem to forget that the cocktail waitress serving their drinks is usually (and I stress the word "usually") sober when they are not.  I'm actually pretty arrogant about my internet stalking abilities.  When I ran into Soldier #2 a couple weeks later, he exclaimed his indignation at my having found and messaged Soldier #1, but not himself.  We became friends on Facebook.  It seemed to appease him, and I was a social butterfly.  Soldier #2 lived with Soldier #3 who was best friends with My Soldier.  We met at a party at the house of his best friend.  Are you keeping up with me so far?

They called me "the Facebook Stalker."  I'm still not sure why this doesn't bother me, other than the fact that it is based on nothing but truth.

While chatting one night My Soldier invited me to share dinner, dinner consisting of Gummi Bears and Dorritos.  Being the one-woman-USO that I was, I invited him to dinner with me at a friends house.  By the time we had solidified plans and agreed on a meeting place, my friends had already eaten dinner and were texting me, wondering where I was.  I made a slight adjustment to our plans and promised him a delicious home-cooked meal by yours truly instead.  He agreed.  Four nights later we went to the fair, bouncing back and forth between his group of friends who we had dined with that night, and my group of friends who were also enjoying free Military Appreciation admission.  After that we seemed to just find ourselves in each others company without even trying.  I was happy.  I felt loved.  And I loved having someone who didn't seem to think of me as disposable.

About a month later we attended my friends wedding.  Ok, I attended, he was dragged along.  But that night while dancing on the dance floor, he said to me "I guess you're officially my girlfriend now."  When I asked why he said, "because everyone at our table is calling you my girlfriend."  It seemed like a good enough reason to me.  I happily danced the night away in his arms, and when he passed out on my couch I did my girlfriend duties in tending to him.  It never even struck me as odd that it had taken me well over an hour to finish one shot of whiskey, that normally would have been downed and chased by a second within half that time.  The next day I went to my cousins baby shower and finally had to admit that I was feeling off.  I didn't want cake!!!  It was unheard of for me to turn down sweets!  The next morning I woke up and still felt nauseous.  It was not until that day, that I realized it...I was "late."

Three pregnancy tests could not lie.  I was pregnant.  And I was scared to death.

He took the news better than I had expected.  We drove to the beach and sat on top of a dune and I cried.  And I talked about my past, and my future and ours.  I offered him an out, and I wasn't positive that he wouldn't take it.  It was the next night that we were lying in bed, and he told me that he would be there.  He didn't want to be a "Birthday Card Dad" and he wanted me to come with him.  He said that we could go to city hall and make me "Mrs. My Soldier" and make this a lot easier.

I misunderstood.

We did get married.  And the first time was at City Hall.  But we planned a "real" wedding and we invited our family and friends and I bought a dress.  And I married the man I saw as my Hero.  The man who didn't run away, but stood up and said he would be there, for me and for our baby.  We toasted, and we cut cake and we tossed a bouquet and garter.  And I danced with my mom and dad, and my sisters and my girlfriends.  And when the time came for the last dance, I looked around and couldn't find my husband.  And I realized I hadn't really seen him since his last "required appearance."

We said "I do."  We thought we would beat the odds.  We told ourselves things like "this was meant to be" and "everything happens for a reason."  We knew that marriage wasn't easy, but we were convinced that we were capable of making it work.  We never stopped to consider that we were just "reacting."  But instead of thriving in a healthy and happy relationship, we seem to be just skidding from one catastrophe to the next.  And right now, it seems we're running out of momentum.

Holding On