Deployment sucks...

I can't sleep, but I've already written him a letter. So I can't do that. I've already posted to my albums. So I can't do that. I have done homework and taken notes. I've looked into different vacations (we talked about maybe going on one when he gets home, it's still up in the air). I've checked out my favorite comic strip, watched NCIS, NCIS: LA and Parenthood, now watching Charmed on dvd. Yet again. I already finished all my NCIS dvds for the second time this year. So what am I doing? rambling. Nonsensical things going about in my head. Random thoughts of kittens discovering the world, of being grateful for the silence after today (the kids were in a grumpy mood all day), thinking of the future, missing Steve and wondering what he's doing. Debating going to get ice cream with Belgian chocolate sprinkles. Thinking it'd be yummy but is it worth the effort, the leaving facebook for five minutes and missing him all together.

This is all part of deployment and I've come to realize that when it's the man you love, it's different than being the daughter, friend, sister of someone deployed. Your entire life revolves around receiving any word from the far away place they are. You worry more at night when you have gone 34 hours without word and are unsure of when the next message, call, letter will arrive. You spend every night unable to fall asleep, either because you'll miss the chance to talk for five, ten minutes with disconnections happening every sixty seconds. You pray with their dogtags in your hand, as if it was a rosary. You close your eyes and picture them next to you, their smile, their eyes, their laugh. You remember the moments that took your breath away, the moments that left you laughing, the moments that you listened to their heart beat as they slept. The way their lips felt on yours is a ghost that lingers. The distance becomes an ache but that ache is bitter-sweet. You ache, feel pain, worry, anxiety and you are willing to feel it because what it means is worth it. It means that when they come home, you'll have that moment, that first kiss, that feeling of falling all over again. The knowing that the man that you have waited for is returning to you.

Deployment means being emotional and crying at a song, a commercial, a glance at a photograph. There is no real comfort for the entire time, but when a letter arrives, life explodes with color and happiness, however brief, because it means that he misses you, that you were in his thoughts and it means everything in the world. When your phone rings with the unknown or foreign number, you answer it with excitement and are overly thrilled to hear their voice, even if a minute later you hear "crack-crack-stomp-stomp-boom-boom" and have to wait to be reconnected. A single phone call can make a whole day that much better and the lack of communication can make the best of days seem lacking. You scour youtube for new music, songs, tributes. When you discover one that says exactly what you feel, you are reduced to tears. When a television show has a theme that is deeper, you wish for their arms around you and cry. It's the hardest thing, to go months without a solid nights sleep and with this overwhelming feeling of loneliness. But you tell yourself, every day that you can do it. That no one said it was easy, but it's worth it. And it is.

It's worth it because of the messages, calls, letters. It's worth it because of that first kiss. It's worth it because of the anticipation of the future. It's worth it because you know that one person in the world, who is willing to give up his life for complete strangers, cares about you and would do anything for you. It's worth it because that one person still takes up your nights when you write letters, and get the opportunity to talk to them. It's worth it, no matter the risk, because love is worth it and isn't love always a risk? And true life-defining love is worth that risk.

And that's what gets me through everyday. Every sleepless night. I know he's worth it. So I pray. I pray for his safe return, I pray for him to still want me when he gets home (it's a deployment insecurity). I pray for the kind of love that Nancy had for Ronald and the love he bore for her. I pray for the simple things in life. I pray every morning and every night and countless times throughout the day. I pray for a call, a letter, a message. I pray for patience when I see couples together. I pray for self control when a girlfriend complains about her boyfriend, fiance or husband. I pray for sleep and dreams of him. I pray a million different prayers but the prayer I pray most often is for him to come home safe and to me.

Days and weeks go by and the countdown becomes less and less. Everyday that passes is one day closer to seeing him. And when that day comes, I will be the happiest girl in the world. It's always on my mind. And as I sit here, wrapped in his shirt, his dogtags hanging around my neck next to the cross he gave me for christmas/valentines day, I stare at his picture and miss him more.