Sweet 'n Sour

There's so much that I want to say...but I don't know how to say it.   I'm not a whiner.  I'm not a complainer.  I'm hopelessly optimistic and a hopeless romantic.  But I know how to deal with those emotions...that's the easy stuff.  It's when things get hard.  That's when I feel the need to consult everyone and their uncle.  That's when I feel the need to "unload".  Not whine.  Not complain.  Just get it off my chest, so that I don't burden the person in question -- with all those issues.  Make sense?  I dunno...it's just the way I'm hardwired.

Jon just got back from his first mission.  I didn't hear from him while he was gone.  Come to find out later, he forgot to pack my phone number, and didn't have it memorized.  The only person he did call, while out on the road, was his mother, and he made sure to ask her how I was doing, and tell her about the phone number snafu.  I took that as a positive sign.  Actually, I took that as one positive sign in a series of positive signs.  Up to the point when he took off, I heard from him every other day. 

Yes, you read that right.  Every other day.

Not bad for two people who aren't dating, right?

I didn't get into what happened the last time Jon and I actually saw each other in person.  We left it at, "Let's see where we are in a year," but as soon as we did, he turned his motor into overdrive.  He called more than ever before, and it seemed like our spark...re-sparked.  Or at the very least, had a gallon of lighter fluid poured on it.

So I've been hanging on.  I told myself that I wouldn't.  I told myself that I would move on, and be open to seeing other people.  I told myself that if the right person came along, I wouldn't pass up on the opportunity.   But by that same token, I told myself that if my heart was still hooked, that I'd let it be hooked.  Not to the point where it was detrimental to my own well being, but I gave myself permission to hold on.

That's exactly what I've been doing with Jon.  And the signs (up to this point) have been favorable.  No guy would waste his time calling you from a war zone if there weren't at least some feelings there.  And he certainly wouldn't talk to you for 27 minutes just for the hell of it.  He talked to me about moving to Pennsylvania (p.s. did I mention I'm moving? I am. At the end of the month).  He mentioned transferring to the Pennsylvania National Guard.  He's still talking about me to all the men in his unit, who are now razzing him for talking to me, and continuing to stay involved, after he essentially swore-me-off at the BBQ from hell in July.  Would you really talk to your boys about me, my future job, and my big move if you didn't care?  Would you call me every other day?  I've let myself believe that these are signs that he still cares, but is just incredibly scared.  I've written him letters every other day.  I've sent a care package, I even caught myself referring to him as my boyfriend a couple times.  None of this really bothers me if it all works out in the end.  But the question is...

will it?

Or...will I wait a year, holding on to something that doesn't exist...continue sleeping with my phone...hanging on his every word...writing him, supporting him, loving him...just to have my heart smashed into a million itty bitty pieces when he comes home in June?  I can't fathom going through that much pain again.  I can't.  I simply can't.

But when I get snapped at on the phone today at 6am...when the only thing he has to say after receiving 150 phone cards in the mail is, "you didn't pay for these, did you?"...when I jokingly say, "You laaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaauuuuuuuuuv me," and he tells me not to put words in his mouth and spoon feed him his feelings...when he tells me it bothers him that I talk to his family, when just a week ago...he told me it didn't bother him at all...well...what am I supposed to think?

It seems so out of character, based on his actions for the past month.  I'm hoping he'll snap out of it.  I'm hoping his first mission was just stressful, and I was his verbal punching bag.  I'm hoping that tomorrow my sweet little Jon will come back...because that phone call?

left a sour taste in my mouth.

twenty.seven.minutes.

27 minutes.  I got to talk to him for 27 minutes. You would have thought it was 8 hours.  I can't tell you the last time we talked for 27 minutes.  Actually...I'm not sure we've *ever* talked for 27 minutes, and I certainly didn't think the first time we'd hit that milestone would be while he was in Kuwait.

It makes me smile.

It warms my heart.

And it re-charges my loneliness battery. 

The way I see it...I have at least another week or two before I'm chomping at the bit to hear his voice again.   Oh...his voice.  You have no idea how nice it was to hear that voice.  To hear him laugh.  The connection was far clearer than I thought...it was almost like he was across town instead of across the globe.  God, it was just so nice.  I can't describe it. 

I love him...I really, really do...

...and every last second of those 27 minutes.

Just ring!

Come on phone...I know you can do it.  I know you have it in you.  Ring.  It's really easy.  I'm dying over here. 

Please...


Just ring.

Good Bye #4

I just said good bye...for the fourth time.  It never gets any easier.

The first time was at his deployment ceremony in May, the second at the BBQ from hell at Fort McCoy, the third in the parking lot of a Dick's Sporting Goods, and the fourth, as I washed dishes in my apartment.

He's boarding a plane as we speak.  Getting ready to take a 20-hour flight to the unknown. 20 hours closer to death, destruction, war...and 20 hours further away from me.

I didn't cry.   I haven't cried since the BBQ, not a single tear.  Which is a good thing.  It's a great thing actually.  The stronger I am, the stronger he is, the more he opens up to me, the more he trusts me, and the closer we get.

One day at a time.  Just keep swimming.

He told me he'd let me know once he landed.  I'm not sure if that means he'll be calling...or e-mailing or what.  I can't wait. 

It's our fourth good bye...and certainly not our last...but the best part of that is - that only means there will be that many more hello's.

Love you Jon.  Fly safe.  See you soon.

Just Keep Swimming...

I think Nemo had it right.  I just need to keep swimming.  Not treading water.  Not fighting for air...not trying to keep my head above the water.

JUST SWIMMING.


I need to keep moving forward.  Quit overanalyzing.  Relax...and just be.  It isn't easy.  Actually...it's a daily struggle, but it's what he needs me to do...and what he deserves.

My Army Counselor friend said it best.

"Sarah, if you want this...you have to fight for it.  This isn't easy.  Nothing about this is easy.  But it isn't easy for him either.  He's literally going to work every day knowing that might not ever come back.  Name one other job that's like that.  You can't.  You can't imagine what it's like.  No one can.  But that's his reality.  That's his life.  He needs you now more than ever, he just can't say it.  If you love him, you need to ride this rollercoaster with him.  You need to fight for him.  You need to support him.  And you need to be strong enough to ignore every other non-military person that comes your way that tells you, 'You deserve better,' 'You're wasting your time,' 'He isn't worth it,' 'What are you doing?'  They don't get it.  They never will.  The Army is a way of life.  It's challenging, it's tough, it's trying...but it's worth it.  And if he's worth it - You need to fight for him."

So, that's what I'm doing. Fighting.  Every day.  Fighting to make it to the next day.  Fighting to weather the storm.  And fighting to focus on the positive.  Because it's there.

He called today and we talked for half an hour.  He gave me a pep talk for my job interview on Monday, and empowered me like you wouldn't believe.  He told me he still looks at all my pictures on Facebook, and ::gasp:: has all of my voicemails saved on his phone (and still listens to them).  He also said...multiple times how much he cared...and that things just weren't working right now (with a pretty heavy emphasis on the right now).  He also made it pretty clear that he isn't waiting until he gets home in June to see me, but plans on seeing me on his leave to sort things out...and if I can't come to Minnesota...he'll come to me, no matter where I end up.

All too often, the good outweighs the bad...I'm just so wrapped up in worry, I can't see it clearly.

I love him.  He's worth the fight.  I just need to keep on swimming...

Still feels like 5 months to me...

I read through a bunch of these posts yesterday, and I sound crazy.  Like legitimately crazy.

I assure you, I'm not.

I'm just going through a lot and trying to make sense of it all.  Unfortunately for you, that process unfolds right here in this blog, because I'd rather hash it all out here, than dump it all on my friends in an hour-long phone call.  It just so happens that the only stuff I need help sorting out, is stuff that gets me in a tizzy.  No sense in blogging about run-of-the-mill things, right? 

Well, I've had a change of heart.  Today, I am going to look back on a very happy moment in my life...


...and it just so happens to be five months ago today.

If you know me at all, you know this story.  I love to tell it.  In fact, even thinking about telling it has brought a smile to my face :)

So - let's go back to five months ago.  Actually...let's go back a few days further. 

A week actually.



5 months. 1 week.



I met the love of my life.


I was ready to give up on men.  I've dated a lot of doozies, got played better than a deck of cards, and was really ready to join the nunnery and commit myself to lesbianism (ok, not really...but I was pretty close to having my carpet bag packed, and only one phone call away from having my "Sound of Music" moment of joining the sisterhood.  Seriously.)  It was the day after Valentine's Day, I was as single as they come, and I was nursing a broken heart and a busted knee (My Valentine's Day present to myself was a torn meniscus).  I didn't go out for Valentine's Day, and really didn't really expect the day after to be much different.

And then my phone rang.


It was my friend Christine. 

C: "So, my friend wants to date you."
S: "Good for him. Not gonna happen."
C: "Oh come on...just one date.  What's one blind date?"
S: "After the dates I've been on recently?  A lot.  Sorry, Christine.  I just really don't want to."
C: "But he's so nice!"
S: "That's code word for ugly."
C: "No, we called him Beefy Jon in high school."
S: "Christine...I love you. But no.  I really don't want to date anyone right now."
C: "One date.  Come on. One date."
S: "Fine...if you want to set up a giant group date...invite the gay husbands and everything...that's fine.  I'll do that.  Meet up for drinks in a group setting? I'll do that.  But no blind dates."
C: "Ok, I'll have to call him and see when he's available."
S: "That's fine."
C: "It'll probably be sometime next week."
S: "Again. That's fine.  Doesn't really matter...I'm only doing this because I love you. Lesbian. Nunnery. Carpet bag.  Remember?"
C: "Ha. Got it.  We'll be in touch."


5 minutes later...

C: "We'll meet you at Beetle's in an hour."
S: "What?"
C: "I called, he's on his way down from Eagan, we're on our way from Albert Lea.  We'll be there in 45 minutes, and there's nothing you can do about it, because we're already in the car.  See you there."
S: "I seriously hate you.  What happened to next week?  Christine...I'm not putting any effort into this.  I'm not changing...not doing my hair...not touching up my make-up..."
C: "That's fine. See you in 45 minutes."
S: "I seriously hate you."
C: "Love you! Bye."

So I really didn't touch myself up at all.  I wore the same jeans and cardigan that I wore to volunteering that day.  I was showing up as is...and that's all there was to it.

Christine and her friend Tif beat me to the restaurant.  Then game our gay husbands...and then.

"Jonny!!!"

My back was towards the door.  I had no idea what he looked like.  My first thought?  "Please don't be ugly, please don't be ugly, please don't be ugly."  That thought was immediately replaced with, "OH SHIT!"  The moment he came around the corner.

Beefy Jon lived up to his name.  He wasn't just "Beefy" -- he was gorgeous.  Absolutely gorgeous.  I instantly regretted my stupid, frumpy cardigan, messy hair and lack of make-up.  DAMN IT Christine!! Why didn't you tell me this man was drop-dead gorgeous?  Seriously!!  "Nice" was the best adjective you could come up with?!?  Ugh.

I don't really remember what we talked about.  I remember that conversation was awkward at points, and my gay husband did his best to completely mortify me in front of him.  What I do remember about that night, is that I couldn't take my eyes off of him.   Occasionally our eyes would lock across the table, we'd wink and blush, and look away.  It was flirtation at its finest.  Then...one by one, my friends started disappearing...until we were the only two left at the table.  I moved in closer, and I distinctly remember thinking, "This guy isn't at all interested in me."  I made the first move (which, according to my memory, was me locking arms with him, but according to his memory, was a kiss on the cheek).  Soon after, he leaned in to kiss me on the cheek and whispered, "That's all you're going to get" before flashing a devilish grin.  After awhile...we mosied (sp?) our way to the parking lot...and what happened next was nothing short of majestic.  He walks me to my car, looks me in the eyes and says, "Oh what the hell," cradles my head in his hands and pulls me in for one of the most romantic kisses of my life.  It was seriously perfect. 

I saw fireworks.  Literally.

That kiss sealed the deal for me.  The butterflies started fluttering in my belly, I started falling head over heels, and I knew at that instant there was no one else I'd rather be with.  Sounds corny...but it's so true.  I fell for him at that very moment.  The kisses that followed only confirmed what my heart already knew.  I think he knew it too -- because he was trembling, and it wasn't because he was cold.  He said so.

We stood in the parking lot forever.  Neither one of us wanting to be the first one to walk away.  Neither one of us wanting that moment to end.  Eventually -- we had no other choice.  We went our separate ways, and within 30 seconds, my phone was ringing. 

J: "Did you see them?"
S: "See what?"
J: "The fireworks."
S: <laughs> "How could I not?"
J: "Good. I just wanted to make sure I wasn't the only one." 
S: "No, you definitely weren't."
J: "I feel like I'm in middle school all over again.  I can't wait to see you again.  Can I drive back down tomorow?"

And with that...we had date #2.

For the next week, Jonny asked me to be his girlfriend in every conversation we had.

S: "You can't ask me over the phone!! That's not how this works.  Besides, you barely know me."
J: "I know enough."
S: "Well, you can't ask over the phone.  You'll just have to wait."

And then, less than one week after our first date, on February 21st, I made my first trip up to his house in Eagan.  There was a horrible blizzard that day.  I was driving at a snail's pace...passing all sorts of accidents and wrecks on the way up, but nothing was going to stop me from seeing him.  The hour-and-a-half long drive, ended up taking almost three and a half hours.  By the time I got there, I was white knuckled, worn out, exhausted...and couldn't find the house.  He ran outside in the blizzard to flag me in, I parked the car, he opened the door for me, and before I could even get my seat belt off, he said, "How about now?  Now will you be my girlfriend?"

It was adorable.  We sealed it with a kiss and the rest is history.

He may not be my boyfriend now, but I still want him to be.  I still love him.  I adore him.  I miss him, and I want him to be mine.


So baby?  Happy Anniversary.  We may not be together anymore...

but it still feels like five months to me.

If I could turn back time...

These past few weeks have sucked.  Absolutely sucked.  I wish I could turn back the hands of time...I wish I could go back to May...back when I had a job...back before he left...do it all over and do it right this time.  Focus less on forcing him to open up...focus less on my search for answers...and focus more on getting to know him...getting to know "us"...and showing him just how much I care.  I want the chance to build a rock-solid, hurricane-proof foundation, capable of weathering any storm, and surviving deployment.

I wish, I wish, I wish.

I'm not sure what we are, or where we stand.  Actually, let me rephrase.  We're going to wait and see where we are in a year.  There is no doubt that this will be the longest year of my life...because to me, nothing has changed.  I still love him.  I still want to be with him, and I still look at him as my better half, the love of my life, my boyfriend.  Don't get me wrong...I have my guard up.  I'm afraid of being hurt.  Cautiously optimistic if you will...but still.  I don't look at him as a stranger on the street...and I don't look at him as my "buddy".  I'm trying to be the strong, silent type (uh...do you know me? That's easier said than done), but it's hard.  I literally sit on my hands to stop myself from calling.  For every text I send, there's a million more I wish I would have sent.  ::sigh::  It's a daily struggle.  I just wish I could turn back time.  Go back to when we were falling for each other and not falling apart.  I want my boyfriend back.

June of 2012 can't get here soon enough...