Beautifully Sad

With this incredible joy that I’ve been experiencing, I am also adapting to a great many changes in my routines and lifestyle.  Since Tim and I got married, we have been through a whirlwind of adjustments and uncertainties.  The first question anyone asks me when I inform people that my husband is currently deployed is, “Where are you guys going to live when he gets home.”  This subject in particular is very complicated and difficult to answer.  I have an answer, it’s just not what we both would ideally like to acknowledge as the answer.  We will be more than likely living apart until he retires.

Finding my soulmate in the vessel of a soldier has come with a level of adaptation that I have not experienced to this degree.  He has never lived in the same town as me.  He was here temporarily for school (or as I like to think of it: to meet me).  We have been somewhat accustomed to having a long distance relationship.  We have traveled many miles to see each other over the past year.  When we found out he would be going OCONUS, it introduced us to a completely new level of emotions.

I read a lot.  I surfed blogs of military wives’ accounts of their deployment experiences.  I read through several different lists of coping mechanisms to combat the struggle with loneliness.  There was a common word used throughout all perspectives:  communication.  I believe that went without saying.  If Tim and I stopped talking to each other while he was gone, we would have to reintroduce ourselves to each other on the other end of the deployment.  We promised to keep each other deeply informed of our day-to-day experiences. 

The first week was a state of numbness.  I wrote avidly in my “deployment journal” and accounted all the thoughts my mind wove throughout the day.  The intent of this journal is to hand it to him when he comes home.  The things I don’t say to him while we’re on the phone/video chat, he can read when the situation is less helpless.  I put into place a very strong support system to help me through the transition.  I made promises to keep him positive and light when he called.  I wanted to make sure he never felt obligated to call me, but felt enthused to call me because I was a source of positivity for him to look forward to. 

I expected this to be hard.  There was no doubt in my mind I would ache being apart for nine months.  We talked a lot before he finally shipped out.  I cried uncontrollably for a while once the time officially started.  We have been blessed with frequent opportunity to communicate.  Twice a day, at least, we are able to either see each other, text, email, or talk on the phone.  I have been surprised at the availability of contact.  Thus, we have been very spoiled.  I have come to expect to hear from him at a certain time.  It has been a security blanket that has kept my mind from wandering too deeply into the dark and scary places I can get worrying about his safety.

I think it took us both by surprise just how much being away from each other hurt.  It wasn’t the kind of pain we were used to feeling every time we parted ways.  This pain has been the debilitating kind that has brought us both to our knees and made us both weep.  We didn’t expect to miss each other this much.  I well up with tears all the time just missing him.  Some days are easier than others, depending on the level of distraction the day provides.

There was an expectation I had that I would at some point during this separation, begin to feel somewhat complacent to his absence and perhaps the pain of his being gone would slip into a monotonous day that I could numbly advance through.  I miss him more every day.  There has been zero numbness.  Not a single moment has passed since he’s been gone that I have felt anything like comfort being without him.  This, I’m learning is the hard life of a military wife.  The selfish parts of me, shout jubilations that his retirement is very near.  This is more than likely his last deployment and we won’t have to go through this again.  Though I would still appreciate the numbness to kick in, it’s also a beautiful manifestation of just how deeply I need him.

We are half way through the duration of this agony.  I am getting more and more anxious about the moment I get to hold his face in my hands again.  I daydream every day about running and jumping into his arms.  Watching reunion videos of soldiers coming home to their families has always pulled at my heart and tugged a tear or five out of these stubborn eyes.  When I see them now, I avoid those videos because I bawl like a child without their pacifier.  We both talk about how good it’s going to feel to be together again.  Before this deployment, the longest we had gone without seeing each other was 11 days.  This will have been 270 once he’s home.

What I have learned about this time has been intense.  I have learned how to be completely open with him.  Not that I lack the ability to fully disclose, but I’m talking to him with intent.  I’m writing in his journal with purpose.  I’m asking him questions that force more than a yes or no answer.  I have learned how to tell exactly when he’s off.  This has no doubt made us stronger.  He is my best friend.  I feel giddy to talk to him each and every day.  I get butterflies like a teenage girl crushing on the quarterback whenever I see his face.  This deployment has taught me just how intensely I love this man.

Depression has for sure seeped in and taken a chokehold to the sadness I’m feeling missing him.  When I first recognized depression was slipping in, I looked at this depression with almost a fondness.  I have learned that I am allowed to be depressed missing my husband.  I know with 100% certainty that all these feelings of woe are going to evaporate the moment I see him safely home.  I recognize that I wouldn’t be able to feel this incomplete if I didn’t know that he completes me.  My tongue has never tasted something quite this bittersweet.  To miss him this much is a testament to how much I love him.  So, I lay in bed at night and feel beautifully sad knowing that I have the man I’ve wanted all my life and I just have to be patient for a little while longer.