The Loss of Everything (A Retrospective)

This blog up until now has been a look forward.  In an attempt to catch everything up to today, in this post I will take a look back.

In 2007, I met the Marine and my life changed for the better.  We began dating in October, but by February the next year the distance of our relationship had taken it's toll on me.  I lost him for the first time.

In 2009, I met the Soldier.  We didn't so much decide to start a life together, as much as our lives just kind of crashed into each other and became one.  We got married in October and December of that year.  Our beautiful baby girl was born in May 2010.

In June of 2011, my life took a dramatic turn.  The Marine and I, both on vacation in Vegas, met up for the first time in years.  And I realized that I missed him.  And we began down the slippery slope of reconnecting and slammed into the ground in a relationship...

In July of that year I got to see The Marine on my birthday.  I was down visiting an old friend near where he lived.  My mom had asked me if I was going down to see him.  The honest truth was no.  But that didn't stop it from happening.  And I quickly began falling for a man who used to be my boyfriend but was not my husband.  And we sat together on the street and I poured my heart out.  And he told me things like "there's no one else."  And the next day I met him to apologize and tell him that we needed to clarify some things and make some decisions.  And I was under the impression that he knew what I wanted.  What I had always wanted.  I thought he wanted it too.

But that didn't stop him from taking someone else to his Marine Corps Ball that November.  A "friend."  A girl that he would have dated if he'd had the chance.  And while I was lying in bed alone at my parents' house that night, writing a letter to him, he was at the ball, kissing her.  And he lied about it.  And every time she came up, he lied again.  And when he was finally coming clean about the lie he said he did it because he didn't want me to leave him.  And the thing is if he had just told me about it then, I wouldn't have.  It wouldn't have been a question.  Our situation was difficult and we were both still trying to figure it out and we were sure to make mistakes.  But the fact that he lied to me about it, about her, for over a year was pretty devastating.  And yet still it was something we overcame.

Before he left on his deployment in May 2012, I sent The Marine two 5050 Cord Bracelets.  A matching set of Woodland MARPAT bracelets, the smaller one with purple trim.  I wanted something that was just for us, that only meant something to us two.  Something to wear while he was gone, while I was waiting for the day I had his hand in mine instead of a 5050 cord bracelet on my wrist.  And I enclosed a card on which I had written a quote: "In true love the smallest distance is too great, and the greatest distance can be bridged."  ~Hans Nouwens 

And I imagined us together, with our matching bracelets, finally getting to hold each other when he got home.  And it made me happy to think I was doing something to show him how much he meant to me. Something to take with him to remind him of my love.

And he gave it to her.

Did you hear me?  I said, he gave it to HER.

I managed to get a phone call in in March during a trip to Target.  And I walked around that store like a zombie for an hour on the phone, while he told me that he knew that she wanted him in her life.  And he said "I'm sure you've seen the pictures on Facebook," which of course I had, but had been telling myself they didn't mean anything because they were just friends.  By the time we got off the phone, I had no idea whether or not he wanted to be with me anymore, and I couldn't breathe.  He made it sound like he cared about me, but he wanted to see if this other thing would work out first.  I barely managed to get to my car before I was in tears.  And I had to get on the phone and call him back.  And I was clear, my marriage to The Soldier was over, and I believed my future was with The Marine, and I thought I was going to be the girl waiting for him when he got back from his deployment.  And he said, "Let's keep going."  And I told him that he was not allowed to say that to me unless he meant it.  Unless he was absolutely sure that he wanted to be with me at least as much as I wanted to be with him.  And he said yes.

The Marine was gone for 8 long months.  We even stole away for a day together on the beach before, and I wiped his tears and told him, we had no reason to be sad, but a lot of reasons to be happy now.  And I missed him everyday.  We emailed, Skyped, and IMed on Facebook.  Every time he would say something like "we need to talk" or "I have something to tell you," my chest would get tight and I would brace myself to hear him say he wanted her instead.  I was constantly panicking, worried that I was going to hear news that never came.  Until a couple months after he got home.  He had a few drinks and called me on the phone.  He was audibly upset and I was once again thinking the worst.  And then the bomb dropped.  He had kissed her, he had lied, and he was so sorry.  And he said he was afraid that I was going to stay with The Soldier and that he would end up with a broken heart again.  And I told him again how that was not possible.  My life and my future were with The Marine.  But with The Soldier being deployed now, things were at a temporary standstill.  And still I took a deep breath, and I told him we were ok.  We would get through this.

I got to see him a couple nights when I was on vacation with my mom and cousin.  We hung out with our friends, we watched a movie.  We got to actually hold each other in our arms.  And I finally felt enough relief to broach the subject.  It wasn't a fight.  Not in the way most couples fight.  But it was the closest thing I had had to a disagreement with this man the entire time I had known him.  There was yelling and crying and it was so strange to be engaging that way with him.  So when he dropped me off the night before I was leaving, it didn't feel right at all.  It felt as if we were just left hanging in the middle of a discussion.  We covered the "what happened" but we never made it to the "what happens next."  And the next day I was on the road driving home, and he took the day off of work, and it was an off day for us both.  I knew that if we left it at that, we would not make it.  If our relationship was going to continue, we'd have to finish the discussion.

And we met in the middle.  Each of us going exactly the distance we needed to get to each other.  And there was more yelling and crying, but there were tears of love and desperation, not just hurt.  And eventually there were tears of relief.  And we cried and we held each other, and we committed to each other to move forward.  With honesty, forgiveness and love.  And I drove away the next day feeling confident in our love for each other.  I felt like we had finally bridged the gap we both had been afraid to cross.  We went there to prove to each other that we were exactly where we wanted to be.  Together.

About a month later I found out suddenly that The Soldier would be coming home early.  I wasn't expecting him until the end of the summer, so I was pretty shocked.  I'd heard of troops coming home four months later than expected, but never four months earlier.  I wasn't ready to address the decisions that had been made yet, I'd thought I was going to have a lot more time.  But the Army makes the rules and the schedule, and I've learned by now that things rarely happen when you're ready for them.  So I told The Marine I was going to take a step back.  I was already preparing myself for darkness so I wasn't talking to my sisters or friends anymore.  I was gearing up for battle and I knew I had to do it alone.

We were supposed to visit for two weeks.  Two weeks and then I would be back at my parents and able to explain everything to The Marine.  But when The Soldier got back he was different.  He said a lot of things that I had waited our whole marriage to hear and he confused me.  I thought for a minute that we might be able to work things out.  I thought that maybe we just needed to try again, after the real break that the deployment had given us.  But before the end of our two week stay at the cabin on the lake, I knew that everything was exactly the same as it had always been.  There would be no saving us now.  But we had the Baby to think about and also only one car with us, so we had to plan carefully how to get his truck to him.  We had agreed that school was going to be a priority, that I would get help from him to be able to go back.  And The Soldier was only going to be fulfilling his current contract and that would be up in January 2013.  So it made sense that the baby and I could stay there while I went to school.  It would take me about 9 months or so but I was have him to help me with our daughter so I wouldn't have to balance a job, school, childcare and bills.  So we decided to find a small apartment that we would share.  I would still need to go back to retrieve our belongings from the storage unit and I figured that would give me the opportunity to explain it all to The Marine.  That we finally had a timeline, a light at the end of the tunnel.  And then the Army threw us another curveball.

The Soldier came down on his dream orders.  Orders that would send him to the desert to be an instructor in the area of his MOS.  He would finally be doing something he cared about again.  And his plans to get out changed.  Which was great for him, I totally supported it.  Except that the move would land right in the middle of any program I started.  We wouldn't stay long enough for me to finish one in the rain, and we wouldn't be gone soon enough for me to start one in the sun.  And The Soldier brushed off my concerns telling me that I would just have to wait a year for school.  He had no interest in working with me to find a solution.  So I brought up the idea of the baby and I staying with my parents so I could go to a school there.  It meant a change of plans, but if it meant I got to start school sooner rather than later it seemed like a good idea to me.  I couldn't think long term any more, I had to focus on the right now.  I had just gotten him to consider the idea when life jumped in.  We woke up one morning early in June in the apartment we had just rented to a burst pipe in our ceiling and an inch of standing water in our kitchen.  And the apartment complex fought us the whole way from that moment.  We are technically still involved in a legal battle with them.  So that back-burnered my plans to return home right away.  We had to deal with moving out, finding a new place, moving in and trying to get our money back from the original complex.  And I didn't realize it, but the stress was wearing on me.  Not talking to The Marine was hard, and having one of my very best friends pregnant with high-risk twins, and having a very complicated pregnancy was difficult, but the biggest struggle was keeping my spirits up.  I didn't realize that I was slipping back into a depression and that I was slowly shutting myself off.  Being there was supposed to be so temporary, but it felt like forces were working against me to keep me there longer.  I'm not sure I even realized all of the factors that had contributed to it by the time I recognized the depression.  But that's how it was before.  Slowly, you stop contacting your friends and family, because you have less and less good things to say, and you struggle to find the joy in their happiness because you cannot find your own.  Then you start to feel so bogged down by the loneliness that all of your energy goes into the things you have to do, and leave you no energy for anything you might want to do.  Even when I hadn't got up off the couch for myself in weeks, I still had to feed and take care of my little girl.  But that was all I did.

And then the third strike came.  While looking on Facebook, The Marine had changed his profile picture.  No longer was he standing with his feet shoulder width apart and a rifle in his hands.  Now he was seated with his arm around the girl next to him and smile on his face.  Her hair was back and she had devastatingly blue eyes.  They both wore hoodies and they seemed happy.  Happy.  And I had no idea what was going on.

The next weekend I left for a girls weekend.  I had been numb for a few days now, but when I got to my friend's house I put on a smile and made small talk with her husband while we waited for her to get back from the store.  When she offered me a margarita at 11:30 am I was relieved I wouldn't have to wait any longer for a drink.  My girls were the perfect distraction.  We played drinking games and did jello shots, some of us jumped in the ocean together.  One of us even fell out of the shower, and it wasn't even me.  But I managed to wake up early in the morning and write an email combined of the hurt, anger and most of all the betrayal I was feeling.  It was a slap in the face to forgive someone so many times and have them turn their back without even an explanation.  And very little effort.

Three words pierced through me with the force of lightning: Yes, it's over.  He told me he was tired of waiting.  And he was happy now.  And the pain spread from my heart, to my head, to my stomach.  For three days I stayed in bed, not eating, barely breathing.  One minute I would be tired and numb, and the next I would be sobbing in tears, wide awake and in agony.  I'm not even sure now without looking back at the text messages that I exchanged with my family and friends, how decisions were made or the sequence of events.  Things are a little blurry still, but the decision was made and the process was started.

My mom drove up to get me and the baby.  Before I left I got to visit my friend and one of the twins in the NICU and give her snuggles and tell my friend my plan.  She seemed really relieved.  She had been there through it all and is one of my first friends from when we moved.  She told me that my eyes looked excited and animated again.  She was always able to tell when I was going through a rough time.  I'm so happy to have her support.

But my biggest support is coming from my family.  My family that I was born with, and a family that I have been blessed with to pick up along the way.  One of my very dear friends has been a tremendous help.  Her mother and father are taking the Baby and I in so that I can find a job and start school.  Her mom happens to run a daycare so I have someone I trust looking after my little girl while I try to make a better life for us.  I start school on August 19th and I couldn't be more excited.  And getting to be close two two of my very best friends again for the first time in years feels like exactly what I need right now.  The three of us are all in very different places in our lives, but they are all special for different reasons and I cannot wait to bring them together again!

So I'm here soaking up my family while I can.  I've got my birthday to celebrate and some good friends to see.  And while I'm here I'm sorting and boxing and packing.  And after I take The Soldier's truck to him and leave some things that I will eventually need brought to me, my baby girl and I will be starting out on a new adventure.  Starting fresh and making a change.  We will travel through six states until I get to our new, temporary home...

Colorado Springs, here we come!




Holding On

The Picture

That didn’t hurt as much as I thought it would.

Earlier today I had been trying to locate the various things I had collected during my relationship with The Marine.  I kept stumbling upon things that would remind me of him and decided to make a mental catalog of it all so I could box it up and keep that from happening.  I located a few items but could not find the framed photograph that he had given me for Christmas.  I was almost relieved that I wouldn’t have to see it yet.

Until, just now when I was looking for my purple pen, I opened a box I hadn’t looked hard enough in and found the frame under my journals.  And it was kind of like having a sack of rocks thrown at my stomach.  I felt the pain in my heart when I looked at the smiling couple, but it didn’t destroy me the way I probably suspected it would.  I had to put it away quickly and change tasks right away, but the tears didn’t last long and I was able to calmly work through it.  But it made me see that I was right and I should probably put away all the things that were special to me and The Marine.

Now to find a big enough box.

Holding On

The Confession

Well, my confession may be less of an actual "confession" and more of an "admission."  I finally told someone other than the Soldier and my mother that I have asked for a divorce.  


I am part of a group of moms in my area who are all very open and honest with each other.  We ask questions about baby milestones, sickness, injuries, and even non baby-related things like our marriages and families.  But I knew it was going to be hard to tell this group of ladies that my husband and I were not staying together.  I already knew that some of them had been divorced before, but some of them surprised me with the information.  And not that I would want anyone to have had to go through this, but it was somewhat comforting.  Even though I know a lot of people (within my family especially) who have gotten divorced, it still feels lonely and isolating.  Perhaps for me it is because of the misperception some of my family had that I was only leaving my husband to be with the Marine.  Whatever it is, even when someone says "I'm sorry and I'm here for you" I really don't ever feel like I have anyone on my side.  I still feel like I am going at it alone.

But these ladies were awesome.  Not one of them questioned me.  And every single one of them who had something to say, had nothing but kind words and encouragement.  Everything I needed.  It makes me a little sad I didn't tell them sooner.  Maybe I would have felt a little less alone all this time.  They all told me how strong I was to realize that I was not and could not be happy where I am, and that it is so difficult to actually make that decision that I should be proud of myself for taking responsibility for my own (and my family's) happiness.

And I know I should be.  It is just so hard to make this decision when you feel like you will always be judged.  And no little girl grows up dreaming that she will one day get divorced.  So for me, I've had to let go of so much already that this is one more disappointment.  I tried so hard to come to terms with the fact that I didn't get a planned and special proposal, down on one knee, with my future husband staring lovingly into my eyes while he presents me with a ring.  I convinced myself that my "fairytale wedding" was not important, it was the man I was marrying that was, and so I got married where he wanted to.  I even picked colors that would match his uniform, instead of the colors I really wanted.  And I had to pretend like I wasn't still hurt, all this time later, by the fact that he was at the bar when he should have been dancing the last dance with me.  So now, all these sacrifices that I made feel petty and small, because the marriage itself has been a bigger disappointment than them all, and I feel at fault.

But now it is real.  It is no longer "probable," it is reality.  Timing is the biggest concern, with the upcoming deployment, I don't know the best way or time to move forward.  And it makes me sad to think that the Soldier and I will have to sit down to discuss when it will be most "convenient" for us to get divorced.  Right now our focus has been on taking advantage of the time he has left here in the states.  Ensuring that our daughter gets to spend as much time with him as possible before he leaves.  And he and I are doing our best to remain focused on that.  Because to both of us, she is what is most important.  And together we will do what is best for her, even when we are apart.



Holding On

The Deployments

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder."


I've got a lot of time ahead of me for my heart to grow, if it so chooses.  Today, the Marine left for Okinawa.  He will be gone for most of the remainder of the year.  And before this year is over, the Soldier will leave on his own deployment.  To a much more hostile environment for a slightly longer period of time.  Their deployments will most likely not overlap.

This may be selfish, but I kind of wish they would.

I feel a lot of guilt admitting that.  But with all the directions I've been pulled in the last year, having any amount of time with no expectations sounds like a beautiful gift.

But the thing is, I know I can take my time.  Whatever time I need.  All I have to do is ask for it.  So why is it so hard to ask for it.  Why can't we simply say what we need, when we need it?  Is it human nature to want to do and figure everything out on our own?  Or could it be that some of us are so used to our requests falling on deaf ears, that we've learned we're going to do it alone in the end anyway?  Sometimes, I feel like when I do finally make a decision for myself, one that I think is the best for me, I spend so much time defending or explaining myself, that I've forgotten what it is I set out to do in the first place.  And then I'm to tired to remember.

I'm going to be pretty hard pressed to find peace for myself in the next year.  It will be full of goodbyes, homecomings, single parenting and second-guessing.  And things haven't exactly been peaceful in the meantime either.

I just look forward to the day when I smile more than I frown.  And when I laugh more than I cry.  That day will come for me.  It's just not today.

Holding On

The "Bad Day"

Some days are good days.  Some days are bad days.  Today(yesterday) was a little of both.

When the baby started making noise this morning, the Soldier got up with her and I actually got to sleep in.  I haven't been sleeping well.  For months I've been waking up in the middle of the night.  I've always been a toss and turn sleeper but still used to manage to sleep well.  Not anymore.  Even more recently I've been laying in bed for hours, flipping and flopping, waiting for sleep to come and wishing I could turn my brain off.  So sleep has not exactly been pleasant, and I was grateful for the chance to wake up on my own clock for the first time in a long time.

Or so I thought.

A couple more hours of fitful sleep was apparently not enough for me to feel refreshed.  In fact, when the Soldier brought the baby up to wake me after noon, I barely felt human.  But I got up and we all went downstairs.  Less than 20 minutes later, while I'm still groggy and trying to bring life into focus, the Soldier mentions lunch for the baby and says "you should go make her rice."  Well, my peaceful rest was short lived, but ok, she needed to eat and she asked for rice.  When I walk into the kitchen my heart sank a little. The Cheerios from her breakfast were still open and on the counter.  The empty milk jug hadn't been rinsed and was sitting next to the cereal.  Her bowl was in the sink with cheerios still floating in milk.  The dish strainer hadn't been touched.  The clean dishwasher was still completely full.  I could feel my blood pressure rising.  I questioned him, with less finesse than I probably needed.  But honestly, I was proud of myself for not saying what I really wanted to, which was "What the hell have you been doing for two hours???"  He was less than thrilled that I wasn't eternally grateful for being allowed to be woken up by him instead of the baby.

It was my breaking point.  We have had discussions about everything from him "helping," to his unrealistic expectations of what I should get done around the house.  Apparently none of it ever sinks in.  Whenever he hears my point of view I usually hear "I'm sorry.  I didn't think of it like that."  Quite frankly, if I never hear the words "I'm sorry" again, it would be ok, because at this point, they have lost their meaning.  They no longer mean, "I apologize," now they are more on par with "I screwed up, can we just get over it so I don't have to feel bad about it anymore."  I've run out of patience and compassion, and it is becoming very apparent.

So after starting a pot of rice for the baby's lunch, I went upstairs.  I took a long shower and didn't worry about rushing out to help.  Afterwards I climbed into bed and watched a couple episodes of my favorite ridiculous tv show.  I got up, got dressed, did my hair and left my house.  I sat down by myself and had dinner and a Margarita.  Food I didn't have to cook, and dishes I didn't have to clean.  It was lovely.  I stopped to pick up some necessities for the house, and took my time, slowly wandering the aisles.  I went and had my nails done.  And before I headed home, I picked up a delicious caramel beverage.  I did all of this with no guilt, and a feeling that I deserved it.

And even when I was out, taking back a small part of myself, I still picked up the Soldier's favorite snack.  And I still ordered him a drink when I bought my own.  Because THAT is what selfless people do.  They don't do nice things because they expect anything in return.  They don't keep tabs on who did what good deeds for whom.  I don't even know how to stop caring about people who sometimes don't deserve it.  I may want a lot of things for myself, and try hard to get them, but you can never accuse me of not taking care of the people I care about.  You can't ever say that I don't think of others, even when I should only be thinking of myself.  And I'm tired of being told that I'm spoiled and selfish.  If I were those things, I wouldn't even be here.

So after "taking the day off" I feel like the Soldier is upset, and I am calm(er).  Because we didn't exactly speak to each other today, he's probably feeling sorry for himself, not realizing the damage that is caused to me every time he starts spouting off about "everything he does for me."  I would think by now that he would realize I don't want to compare.  I've done a lot for this family, too.  And I do it without throwing it in his face.  He thinks my job is so easy, so I let him do it for a day.  Not even a whole day.  And all he did was watch the baby, and do a couple dishes at the end of the night.  All the things I usually do, still have not been done.  And you know what?  I don't care.  I'm done busting my ass over all those things, to have one nice gesture thrown at me like I'm an ungrateful brat.  So whether or not he understands or agrees, I know that I needed this day.  I needed a chance to only have to worry about myself, even if it was only for a few hours.  And it felt like I could breathe better than I have in a long time.  I might even take tomorrow off, too.

Holding On

The Darkness

I've been hurt a lot in my life.  Sometimes by people I cared about, and often by people who I thought cared about me, but actually didn't.  The worst pain comes from those you least expect it from.

I'm still really confused, and more than a little lost.  There is too much moving through my head for me to sort out.  Every time I try to focus on any one thing, I seem to stumble into another thought altogether.  Every time I think I've made peace with a thought or decision, I end up sick to my stomach about it.  Too much is happening at once, and it's really starting to pull me apart.

Going through these struggles in my marriage have definitely been hard.  It's hard to put into words, but it's like my heart has known something that my brain is trying to deny.  Even when I say the words out loud to the Soldier, it hurts me, because I know it is hurting him.  Even when they are words that I think will help us both, they are hard to say.  The possibility of ending our marriage is there, and whether or not it is for the best, it is sad.  But it is not devastating.  I think we have both been suffering long enough to see that now.

Moving through this darkness was easier knowing there was light at the end of my tunnel.  Shining brightly and calling me home.  I knew that getting through the hard part would all be worth it one day.  That happily ever after could still happen for me.  I was so sure of it.

And now, I'm more lost and confused than I have ever been.  I've been hurt by someone who I never thought would hurt me.  I didn't even think it was possible.  But my nerves have been pushed to the limit.  My heart races and my stomach is in knots.  It takes deep breaths and long thoughts about what I have to be grateful for to get me through.  What has happened to my rock solid?  How did it suddenly crumble beneath me?

All this really means, is that I may stumble and fall more than I already would have.  I might breakdown more than I'm expected to.  But I will get up, pick up my daughter and move forward.  She is the one pure thing I have in my life.  She is the one I have to make no apologies to, or exceptions for.  I will make this life better for her.  Even if I do it alone.  I will not let her think that her life is anything less than charmed.  She is the beauty that rests within me.  She is the strength that pulls me up from my knees.  And she is the hope that inspires me.


Holding On

The Lyrics

Throw a dog a bone,
I'll take it if i have to
Go real fast like there's somewhere we can get to 
What's the use of standing right there on the edge if there ain't nowhere to fall 
What's the use in hanging on tight to the phone
If nobody might call

Desperation 
There's danger in frustration
Complicated words slipping off of your tongue and ain't one of them the truth
I'm still desperate for you 

Tell it like a lie, 
Live it like a movie 
Give a heart away like it don't mean nothing to me 
What's the use in making all the plans that we made if you weren't gonna go 
What's the use of slapping on a smile for a face if your eyes don't wanna show

Desperation 
There's danger in frustration
Complicated words slipping off of your tongue and ain't one of them the truth
I'm still desperate for you

Well it's too damn bad you didn't have a chance to make me your best friend 
You were too caught up in giving too much up and not doing what you should have been 

Desperation 
There's danger in frustration
Complicated words slipping off of your tongue and ain't one of them the truth
I'm still desperate for you


Desperation


"Desperation" by Miranda Lambert

Holding On

The Homecoming

I took a break.  I loaded up the car and my daughter and I drove 864 miles to the place where her father and I had met.  We spent Halloween with my sister and nephew.  We drove to my parents house in The Middle of Nowhere.  We had a short visit with her father in the California desert where he was assisting another unit with a training mission.  We went to Disneyland...twice.  And I began to find some peace for myself.

Fast forward to Christmas.  We spent a week with the Soldier's family and celebrated, and we shared gifts and we enjoyed time together.  I love the Soldier's family at least as much as I love him.  Maybe more (well there are more of them than just the one of him, right?!).

Back in my home state, we had two small Christmas parties.  First with my sisters and their families.  Then with my father's family.  There was not nearly enough time but the clock was ticking to get the Soldier back to that rainy place, since he was due back to work on the 3rd.

Two days.  It took two days of being back in this house for me to break down in tears while lying in bed next to him.  There is happiness somewhere in this house, I know there is, there has to be!  But I cannot find it.  I am not angry, or hurt.  I am just here.



Holding On

The Fallout

"People are people and sometimes it doesn't work out, nothing we say is gonna save us from the fallout."  -Taylor Swift, "Breathe"

Seeing the Marine in Vegas was a total shock to my system.  My mind was running laps at 100 mph and my heart had come to an almost halt.  I wasn’t prepared to see him again.  I wasn’t prepared to finally address the feelings I locked away so long ago.  But the minute I saw him, the minute he walked up to me in that Casino, I was lost.  When I looked into his eyes and saw a genuine smile, and when I reached out to grab his hand and there was no hesitation on his end, I was cracking into the safe in which I had locked away the feelings I had for him, and even kept that little part of myself.  And with each moment I knew I was opening a book that I would not be able to close, but had never meant to open again.

When I got home, I made the biggest effort yet, to get to a good place in my marriage.  I reminded myself that this was what I wanted, and that I was very lucky to have a good husband who loved and provided for our daughter and myself.  And yet I knew, somewhere deep in the back of my mind, that the chance was gone.  No matter how much I wanted to make my family work, no matter what my husband did from this point forward, there was no chance for us.  It was gone.  

And ‘it’ seems to be the hardest thing to describe in this whole crazy story.  How do you explain ‘it?’  Other than “what I don’t have.”  The Soldier was trying hard to be the man I wanted.  But he couldn’t be, because the man I wanted was no longer him.

I never imagined that I would involve myself in any kind of “emotional affair.”  I never thought it would be possible to be that kind of person, that kind of wife.  But without even realizing what I was doing, I became attached to the Marine again.  I didn’t mean to, I never woke up one morning and thought, “today I’m going to completely cross the line of what is appropriate in my marriage.”  But soon, the casual little texts had evolved from “hey, how’s it going?” into more in depth conversations about our past, and our feelings.  I came to realize that I couldn’t give him up.  Even when I tried to limit our contact after a request from the Soldier, I could never completely cut ties.  And it became increasingly difficult to watch the Soldier, make these gestures and attempts to show me how much he was committed to our relationship and our family.  I could not help the fact that I no longer responded the same way.  Emotionally and physically I was pulling away, and he was doing everything he possibly could to keep me there.  He even agreed to let me keep contact with the Marine if that was what I needed to give our marriage another shot.  He did and said all the right things, but it was never able to get through to me.  There was no way to bring the love back.  Had I had my heart all to myself, I may have been able to pull it off, but I was already giving my heart to someone else.

Holding On

The Breakdown

(a.k.a. The Bachelorette Party)

As time goes on, I find that the time I spend with my husband becomes less relaxing and enjoyable, and increasingly awkward and stressful.  Simple things, that used to make me smile, now give me goosebumps.  Running his fingers down my arm, touching my back or holding me while we are in bed, no longer give me feelings of comfort and love.  And just as I inched away from him in bed at night, trying to get my own space, so was my heart.  It had been quite some time since I felt like I was happy right where I was.

With the approaching summer we were getting closer to the wedding of one of my best girl friends.  We were going to Vegas, without the husbands and without the babies, and we were celebrating her and the soon-to-be end of her Bachelorette-hood.  And wouldn't you know who happened to be in Vegas, the same weekend, celebrating a friend's birthday?

After getting back to the hotel after the booze-infused pool party, I was collapsed in bed and checking Facebook.  And there it was: The Marine was at MGM Grand Las Vegas.  How was this possible?  That was on the same exact street that I happened to be on at that exact moment.  He confirmed that he was in fact in Vegas and was surprised to find out that I was too.

After the first night and full day in Vegas, I wasn't feeling my best by dinner time.  The smell of food when we walked into the restaurant was almost overwhelming.  After a dinner of plain pasta with butter, I begged off the plans for a male strip show.  Me and one of the other girls cabbed it back to our hotel for some rest.  The girls would call us after the show and we would meet up with them then.  But at 1 in the morning, the Marine texted me and I still hadn't heard from the girls.  I made plans to meet up for a quick drink.  While I was getting dressed I heard from the girls who were still at the same hotel I planned to meet the Marine at.  I figured I'd go have a quick drink with him and then meet up with the girls after.

I was nervous.  I'm still not sure why, but I was nervous to see him.  It would only be the second time since we had split up that we would actually see each other.  I sat at a slot machine while I waited for him.  I sensed him before I actually saw him.  I must have felt that someone was coming in to my close proximity and I knew instantly that it was him.  I smiled.  I smiled a big huge smile when I saw him.  And we walked, and we talked, and we sat down for a drink and I lost track of time.  I had been casually ignoring texts from sisters, intending that I would be leaving in "just a minute" and I would call then and go find them.  Until finally one of them called me, and was less than pleased that I didn't join them at the show, and that instead of getting together immediately, I was sitting at a bar with someone else.  I couldn't even blame her.  I completely understood.  And yet I still couldn't leave.  Even though it was obvious that I wasn't, I felt like I was where I was supposed to be.  We sat above the casino, people watching and talking for hours.  Exhaustion hit me like a ton of bricks somewhere around 5 am.  Or maybe it was 6.  I honestly can't remember.  But, the gentleman that he is, he drove me to my hotel and dropped me off.  When he came around to my side of the car and gave me a hug, I found myself clinging to him.  I was suddenly consumed by the feeling that I needed him, and that I couldn't let go.  When my breathing got shaky, he held me tighter and said softly, "I know.  It hurts me too."  I quickly kissed him and headed off to my room.  I made it to the elevators before I really started crying.

The next day the whole thing seemed to be a blip on the bachelorette party radar, but nothing more.  No one was mad, and we tried to sort out the details of the night over some room service breakfast.  The Marine and I texted through the morning.  He was driving back that day and we agreed to grab some coffee before he hit the road.  When he finally came by the hotel the girls and I were at the pool, so I told him to bring his swim trunks.  I'm not sure why it didn't seem weird to me.  I didn't even hesitate to bring him around my sisters and girlfriends.  It never occurred that it might be awkward to bring an ex-boyfriend to hang out with the girls on a bachelorette party weekend.  My girls don't judge.  I guess I'm pretty lucky that way.

When the pool was closing, most of the girls had already gone back to the room, so my sister left to join them and the Marine and I walked around to get some coffee.  We carried it to the outer staircase of the hotel parking garage.  And we talked, and I cried and he held me.  I told him how I felt like I was losing him again.  How I was so confused, because I couldn't understand how I could love my husband, but love and miss my Marine so much.  He comforted me.  After all the pain that I had put him through, he was trying to ease MY pain!  It was like I had woken up from a dream.  A dream in which I pretended that I hadn't hurt him when I left, and that we were both happy and fulfilled without each other.  But the reality was that we both missed each other, and I finally had to admit it.  I could no longer deny that we both still had feeling for each other.  And it startled me to think that my feelings for him could be stronger than my feelings for my husband.

When he finally left I walked back to the room and crawled into bed.  My sisters were watching a movie and left me alone to nap.  I was trying to rest before we got ready to go out for our last night.  And as I laid there in the darkness, in the semi-conciousness of drifting between awake and asleep, I knew that I had opened a door that I couldn't simply close and walk away from.  I knew that I had just created a complication with no easy solution.  And I had no idea how it was going to play out.


Holding On

The Move

For most, home is where the heart is.  For the wife of a Soldier, home is where the Army sends us.

Everything seemed to happen so fast.  We got married in the courthouse, again in front of our family and friends, the Soldier graduated from his school, my family threw me a baby shower and we packed up all our combined belongings and moved 864 miles away.  We got to our new duty station and only had to wait a few weeks before housing became available.  The Soldier started with his new unit and I started searching and shopping for all the things we'd need to turn our house into a home.

I also got into a fight with his brother, felt like I was an afterthought in his mind and struggled to feel like this was were I was meant to be.  It never felt right.  It was always something.  It was a constant battle to try and make ourselves happy, and we never seemed to win.  And I tried to ignore how unhappy I was.  I tried to tell myself that being newlyweds, expecting our first baby and moving away together, were all really difficult things on their own, and that we were doing them all at once!  So of course there was going to be more stress at first.  We had a lot of learning and adjusting to do.  But sometimes I would get a nagging feeling that it wasn’t going to get better.  That we were somehow unmatched for each other.  Too different and too similar in all the wrong ways.  There were actually several times late at night, when I would sit in the tub with the shower running and the lights off, and I would cry.  It was the one place I could be alone, without feeling alone.  

I always found an excuse.  Or he did.  Together we always managed to do just enough damage to hurt our relationship without doing enough to break it.  I kept waiting and looking forward to the day when it would get easier.  When some magical button would get pushed and we would start to understand each other better, and how to make the other person happy.

I’m still waiting.

The baby came and things moved along, swiftly if not smoothly.  We fought about Thanksgiving.  We fought about Christmas.  On New Year’s Eve we promised to do better, to try harder.  Then we fought while planning our baby’s first birthday party. We fought when his dad came to visit.  We fought while we were in Disneyland.  We fought the day of our daughter’s party.  We always apologized and admitted our wrongs, but nothing ever changed.  We continued to fight.  And for months I told him I was tired.  For months I cried, and said I didn’t want to do it anymore.  And for months, the happiness was slowly replaced with numbness.  I found happiness in my little girl, but I found sadness that didn’t go away.  I just kind of existed.  And I longed for feeling.  I longed for something so powerful and so deep, that it doesn’t just fill you up, but it breaths life into you.  I thought I could remember a time when I felt that.  But it seemed to have been so long ago.  And I needed so desperately to remember.  Little did I know the surprise that was in store for me.

Holding On

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

The Marine

"Some people live an entire lifetime wondering if they've made a difference in the world, Marines don't have that problem." - President Ronald Regan

I met the Marine when I was 22.  I had barely survived my previous relationship and was trying to break free and reestablish myself as the strong, independent girl I once was.  I was spending a lot of time with my girlfriends, two in particular who were particularly supportive of improvements I was making to my life.  My friend from high school had recently returned from Okinawa and was still in the area.  He invited me to hang out and catch up as we hadn't seen each other in a couple years, since before he had joined the Marine Corps.


One of my most trusted friends was with me when I got together with my old high school friend, and that's where it starts.  Two of his Marine buddies were also along for the ride, so to speak.  We met up at one of the guys' house and relaxed by the pool.  Afterwards we decided to grab a bite to eat before going to watch one of the buddies play in his softball game.  At the end of this relaxing day, I found myself preoccupied and thinking about the guy I had just met.  A text to my high school friend was all it took and he passed along my number.


A beach bonfire, a movie in the theater, a couple dates and one thing led to another.  I was falling fast, and the date of his departure was fast approaching.  He was ETSing and moving home.  More than halfway across the country.  In our euphoria we managed to overlook this minor drawback.  Almost immediately after he left I missed him.  I moved back in with my parents and grew more and more attached.  We planned for me to visit him and meet his family.  October 22 is when we officially became a couple.  A week was not long enough, and I didn't want to leave.  My mother later told me that she was surprised that I did.  He came back to meet my family.  They fell in love with him almost as fast as I did.  We talked about me moving.  Places I could work.  Schools I could look into attending.  I was about to pick up my life and move 2,120 miles away.


I don't think I realized at the time that I was panicking.  With all the distance between us, we may have been rushing the move.  But he made me so blissfully happy.  I could not imagine wanting to be with anyone else.  And that in itself was pretty scary.  With the dangerous relationship I had barely managed to save myself from, I was afraid of making another colossal mistake.  I was with the man I wanted to be with, and I was scared to death about it.


The distance itself was another problem.  Being away from this person who made me so happy (and not realizing at the time that I was panicking about it) had me slipping back into a depression.  Not a deep dark depression, but still somewhere that I never wanted to be again.  The longer we were "together" and the longer we were apart, the sadder I got.  At some point after I had gone back down South for a job interview, I realized that I was spending more time sad and upset, than I was living at all.  I did not want to go back to that kind of life, or rather "non-life."  And I did something that was heartbreaking for both of us.  I ended it.


I spent the rest of my time down South working as much as possible.  I worked doubles, extra days, and I spent a lot of time with a friend from work.  I didn't get seriously involved with anyone else.  And I didn't ever deal with the pain of losing pushing away a great love.  I locked it away somewhere that I didn't have to think about.  I moved that summer to be with my sister while her husband was deployed.  I got a new job (two actually), I went out with my friends, I started singing and working out again.  But I still never faced my loss.  Instead I locked it with another key and let myself bounce from one meaningless guy to another.  It would still be a couple years before I realized what I had given up, and what I failed to see I was doing to myself.


Holding On

The Best of Intentions

First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes baby in a baby carriage.

Except that's not how we did it.

We worked in reverse.  I met my Soldier, and in the middle of falling in lust, I got pregnant.  And we were both scared.  But we were happy and we cared about each other, and we thought "you know what?  We can do this!"  So we did.  We got married.  We dove in head first and knew we could take on the world.

But my idea of marriage, and his were not exactly on the same page.  Or in the same chapter.  Heck, we may have been reading entirely different books!  I thought I was saying I love you.  I thought I was saying I'll love you forever.  I thought I was saying I'll try to make you happy for the rest of my days.  He thought he was saying, I'll be there.  He thought he was saying, I'll support you.  He thought he was getting a perfect wife.

I am not a perfect wife.  I may not even be a good wife.  I am quite possibly even a bad wife.

The fights began almost immediately.  The displays of affection lessened.  And the love wavered somewhere in between here and gone.  I can't count how many times I said I wasn't happy.  I can't count how many times I told him I wanted to leave.  But he either didn't hear me, or didn't believe me.  Either way I held on to a love that was barely there.  I continued to try to make him happy.  And I worried every day that I was setting an example for my daughter that this is all love is.  That there is no Happily Ever After.  There is just forever together.

I wish that happiness was as simple as yes or no, black or white.  But no one decision means happiness.  In fact every decision comes with it's own painful ramifications.  But how do you decide between your own happiness and that of someone who you love.  And why does it have to be a choice?  Why can't happiness be an all-encomposing entity?  Once choice to suit all parties?  Unfortunately, in this situation that will never be the case.  I will have to make a choice.  And it will hurt, no matter which decision I make.

Holding On