A Sit Down

You ever think that some topics are just too much to talk about? Even with the person you need to talk about it with the most. Let me put you mind at ease and say that everyone feels this way and I wrote it like this just to start off a good post. I did good, didn’t I?

I was laying down next to the man I love dearly and thinking about all the things in life. I have a habit of always thinking about heavy stuff when I’m cuddling close to someone. His arm wrapped around my waist, grossly breathing on the back of my neck in a semi cute way and just knowing that he loved me too. It was nice.

But me being me and thinking too far and too much. I started to cry. Before I get completely detailed into this, I want to blurt something out. I am terrified by the idea of marriage. It may sound weird coming from a female, but I am. Carrying on. I was crying and naturally, he tried turning me to face him, but I didn’t want to. I wanted to be left alone. I wanted to walk away and deal with my emotions alone. Thing is, in a relationship, you have to let the other person be there for you. Him and I both are guilty of trying to deal with problems on our own until they get to be too much and then we go to each other. It is a short fight and then stuff is fixed fast. His being here, with me, he didn’t let me go. Which is the majority off why I wanted to write this post. That fucking brat and what he did.

He freaking sat on me. He’s half naked and pinning me down. I’m angry at this point because I just want to be left alone. I’m yelling at him and trying to push him off me. I am pretty sure he was having a blast. He was laughing the whole time. He held my hands and pinned my feet in some weird ass way. I have no idea how. We were on the bed, until I flipped us off and managed to pin him on floor. It overall was really fun. He, in the middle of the whole thing, kept licking my face. It was gross. When he finally stopped licking my face, he asked what made me cry. I asked (again) for him to let me up and he didn’t.  He asked again.

I told him that I was afraid that he was going to leave for deployment and come back and not want me as his forever. That he wouldn’t love me. A bunch of other fears. The same fears he and I have addressed multiple times before and I’ve gotten over multiple times, but it was still scary for me. He got off, not enough for me to run off though. He listened to me talk and I started to cry again. He listened and wiped my tears.

Then I got sick because I worked myself up so much.

While I was in the bathroom, being super sexy (major sarcasm here) and throwing up, he pulled my hair up and rubbed my back. He told me it would be okay. When I was okay, he cupped my face, all hallmark. He told me that he was going to wait until he came home to talk to me about it in case I changed my mind about us, but since I got so worked up… I seemed okay. He had been thinking of marrying me once he got shore duty. I was super confused. When in the hell would he get shore duty? His contract was up in a few years.

His ass…. He signed again. Another four years. I know at least of those four, I don’t know if he signed for more than that. I have a gut feeling that he signed for more than those four years. He sat on the sink counter as I sat on the floor trying to take this in and understand all of it. I don’t know why it was hard to understand. It was only a few facts in the conversation. He wanted to marry me when his first contract was up. He signed again. He may have signed for more than four years. Those were the facts. But then why was it so hard to grasp?

Going back to my fear of marriage. I am not afraid of commitment, nope, I want my dude to be mine. I want him to be old and grey haired on a rocking chair next to me one day. I want that. I’m not going to tell him that now, but that’s what I want. I’ve hinted at it once or twice, but never told him outright. Maybe I should’ve or maybe I should now. I don’t know. My fear is that one day he may change his mind. I don’t tell him this either. I don’t tell him because in my head, I think that it might give it a stronger possibility. I know, logically, that’s not possibly, but that’s my thinking. I have horrible anxiety.

He’s brought up marriage before. That was interesting and honestly scary and exciting. I kept asking a million questions, which I think resulted in freaking him out. I’m not going to bother going into that story.

I love that man.

Crash Landing Dreams

Waking up in the middle of the night….

In tears, in a cold sweat, shaking….

You are so scared that you think you forget what happen, but the moment you think you did, it all  comes rushing back. That’s when all that you hope for is that you didn’t scream and that your family or neighbors didn’t know what happened. You cover your mouth and hope that you can compose yourself enough to calm down. It’s three am and you know you have work in the morning. You know you have to get back to sleep.

And after a few minutes, it is okay again. Your heart is not in your throat and your eyes aren’t flooding anymore. The only problem is that you still remember the dreams. How can you forget them? Not those kinds.

I dream a lot. I remember a lot of them. I’m lucky that I usually have good ones. Usually pretty dorky ones. Ones with my family or with animals or with my sailor. I usually have some great ones. Those ones I can wake up and smile and know that it can be real someday.

But it’s the other dreams, the evil ones, that no one likes to talk about that I have too. Everyone has them. They show in our sleep as a version of our deepest fear in the worse way and we can’t escape unless we wake up. What’s even worse is sometimes is that you can’t wake up. This happens to me often. Since this is a blog about being the military/Navy girlfriend…. Those are the dreams I’ll talk about.

I dream his ship will wreck.

I dream a major accident will happen.

I dream that the “small” disagreements will kill him.

I dream that he’s home and tries to save someone, getting hurt in the process.

I dream that he dies and doesn’t have enough air to tell me that he loves me.

Above all…. The worse one I have isn’t the one watching him die, it’s what happens after. Sitting in a black dress, black flats, numb to the core because I’m dead inside with him. I am sitting with his family, my family is sitting behind me. Some military man hands his stepfather the folded flag as his mother clings to me. Her baby is dead.

People say our relationship is Hollywood. That there is nothing imperfect about it. I don’t know about the other SOs, but this happens to me. I would say this is an imperfection. I assume it comes with the territory, but I’m just guessing. Being a military girlfriend/SO, we are held to a certain image. Some of us don’t know it, at least not at first. No one can explain that image to you, you just pick it up as you get further into the relationship. For me, I’ve noticed that other civis (civilians) expect me to be this super strong, bad ass woman. Sure, I can be, but the expectation is to be that all the time. That’s what it feels like. I’ve also noticed that since people learn my relationship status, they come to me for relationship advice. I’m not sure how this plays into it, but I feel it does. Like, she’s got the hardest relationship ever, she can help with my no job-cheating partner. Honey, all I’m going to tell you is to leave the bastard. I don’t care if you think you love him. He cheated on you. When I cry because I miss him (which isn’t often actually), they tell me it’s okay and then to stop. It’s okay to cry, but I can’t cry at the same time. When I asked about it once, the response shocked me. The girl asked, “Well, you knew he would leave or whatever right? You shouldn’t cry about something you knew was going to happen”. I got up and left before I ripped her hair out or something that might have sent me to jail. I have an image, we all have an image.

I love him and will always love him no matter what.

Hooyah

Unreasonable, Maybe

As I’ve mentioned before, I have a goal. I have many goals, but one in particular that has come to me since my man has left for deployment.

“I’m going to look better than you when I come home.” The brat says. Okay then, I accept that challenge. I know he may not have meant it as a challenge, but I sure as hell took it as one.

I got a gym membership and changed my eating habits slightly. I have started taking the stairs at school. I hate doing this. I hate being “healthy”, even though I’m going into the medical field. BUT I must beat him at his challenge.

In the military, there are physical tests that each member must do. How often, I am not a 100% sure. I’ll get back to you on that. With these tests, the military has certain standards that the members have to meet. Every time my dude has done the test or a mock test, he’s hit the excellent mark. I’m proud. Now, looking at my goal… I’m nervous, but still proud.

I have looked at the male 20-24 standards of the Navy and decided that I will base my workout and everything else on that. I will win this competition. I have already gotten May’s status on his numbers and know where I need to get as of now.  I know he is busy and will be tired, but will try to make time to exercise nonetheless.

I know I probably shouldn’t weigh myself every week, as that might make me down on myself, but I do. I have lost some weight, yay me. As of the last two weeks however, I have stayed the same. Exactly the same. While at the gym though, I am beginning to be able to push myself harder with heavier weights and for a longer amount of time. It takes more for me to be sore, so I add more on and then I feel like crap and can barely walk or lift my arms. I just tell myself over and over again that I will beat his numbers when he comes home.

I just hope that I can. I know it is probably an unrealistic goal. I am going to try anyways. Wish me luck you guys.

Scary Truth

The real truth is, we try to control our for a lot of situations. He’s on deployment. He says he’s fine. He says he’s getting enough sleep. He even says he’s having fun. But for me at least, I always wonder if he’s just telling me that because he knows I’m worrying. I wonder if he tells me to try and give me some comfort. He tells his mom he’s seeing so many things and etc, I know he’s not close to land right now. He just sees water.

I have a great friend that I grew up with who is married to a cranky but funny marine. I love picking on the dude, probably why he’s cranky around me. She knows what it’s like and she and I talk all the time. We share the same worry of the current situation. Personal, I don’t feel comfortable saying that worry, but it is a worry nonetheless. She and I grew up together and mostly through the NJROTC program I’ve mentioned a few times. She was the more badass at it than me but we loved it. She was and is my sister through everything. Back then it was a school program and now it is the common thread of being in a military relationship.

But the scary truth is the answer to many questions… I don’t know. I know that this life comes with many uncertainties and I’ve grown to accept it, but with deployment- it becomes a strong fear. Not an easy one to handle, but one I handle every day and do it well.

After all, I’m writing a blog about this. It’s one way to handle things. It’s basically a journal. Sharing fears, dreams, amusements, laughs, memories and everything in between that would show this life decently.

To Readers

For those who read this blog and like what they read or want a more personalized version of things, feel free to email me. There is a contact button at the top of the page, but if you can’t find it, do not fear, I will go ahead and set my email down below. I am open to any questions or conversations. I will tell you as I respond what I am allowed to say and what not if you haven’t picked up from that already. Please do not take this as me being rude, I am trying to keep my man safe along with his shipmates.

Email:   sailorsgirl1775@gmail.com

As I said, any questions or comments are welcome. If you like to see something, in particular, let me know and I will work on it and will schedule to post it in the future. If you just want to talk about things, I am okay with this too. I am, however, a pretty busy person, but promise I will get back to you as soon as I can.

Standards

My mother asked me when I was six what I wanted in my prince charming one day. I told her that he had to make me pancakes and sing to me like in all the cartoons, then I would go about my day to color more pictures that would hang on the fridge.

My mother asked me again when I was eight what I wanted in my prince charming when I grew up to find one. I told her that he had to be nice, share his toys with all the other kids and still had to sing to me like in all the Disney movies.

My mother asked me again when I was ten what I wanted in a boyfriend when I was allowed to have one. I would laugh and tell her that he had to be smart and funny and still had to sing to me like all the princes did in the Disney movies.

My mother asked me again when I was fifteenth what I wanted in a husband when I got to that point in my life. I rolled my eyes and asked her why she thought I would get married, that I just wanted to get tattoos and work in a hospital. She smiled and pushed for an answer. At this age, I had had a few crushes and I was liking one boy. I think his name was Brandon. I don’t remember. I started to describe what he looked like and then told her what I wanted his personality to be like. I wanted a guy that was smart, kind, had a sense of humor and would still sing to me.

Now that it is a few years later, my mother has yet to ask me again. I am waiting for it. I might go ahead and tell her anyways on my next phone call. Before I met my sailor, I would have told her that I wanted a guy that I could trust and rely on, that he must be kind. I wanted a guy that could make me laugh and help me relax when I got angry enough to want to hit someone (which I never have, but have wanted to). I would have told her that I wouldn’t have cared what he looked like as long as he took care of himself, but honestly I’ve always liked clean-shaven men. I would’ve also added in that he has to be good with kids. More than anything-he still has to sing to me.

When I told my mom I started dating a United States Sailor, she was quite at first. I got nervous. I wanted her approval. It was important to me. I wanted her to like him, or at least the idea of him. She started asking about him. She started with the basics, his name, where he was from, how old he is. Everyone knows the basics. She seemed interested and we kept talking for a good hour plus. This made me happy. Towards the end of our conversation, I asked if she thought she could like him. She said yes, but sooner or later wanted to talk to him herself. I smiled and shot my hand in the air, fist up. Then she asked the ultimate question.

“Has he sang for you yet?”

Oh mother. She cracks me up. But it is a good question. It must be on the boyfriend resume for my mother and me to continue to approve.

My answer. Yes, he has sang a song for me. Not a Disney song. Nope, and we weren’t dancing either. Personally, I think it was cheesier than that. I was sick and he was on his base while I was home. He felt bad that he couldn’t do anything to help me. So, us having talked about music a million times before…. He went into the bathroom away from his roommates and sang for me. I must tell you guys. I had butterflies and my cheeks were flushed. I was totally falling in love at this point. It was around three months into our relationship. I think.

BUT him being a little turd, when I felt better, he talked me into singing back to me. I love him. We’ve been singing back and forth to each other since. It’s adorable. I hate doing it, I get nervous every time, but it makes him smile. I like when he smiles.

I love him. I could scream it from the roof tops. But I don’t want to get arrested.

 

Maybe I Shouldn’t Be

I am angry. Furious even. I want to shake him and scream in his face. I am not a violent person, for the most part, so, I can say with confidence that I would not hit him.

He lied to me. This may sound like the smallest of things and sometimes it is. It all depends on the thing it is, but it shouldn’t matter what it’s about in my opinion.

He’s been drinking. Not lately because he’s been on deployment. I mean, maybe when he was in port lately, and maybe that’s why he didn’t want to video chat with me or his family at all. Maybe that’s just me jumping to negative thoughts. I don’t know.

I don’t think this would be such a bad thing for me to not know if he wasn’t roommates with who he is. His roommates is an alcoholic who can’t wait to spend money on the next bottle instead of his coming child. With that in mind, I fear about what might have happened when my man was drinking with his roommate. And I know it was his roommate who bought the roommate because the roommate buys a bought at least twice a week. It’s sad really. These bottles aren’t little, light drinks. My family knows some bartenders… These are not easy drinks. The roommate gets angry and wild. His pregnant wife waits in the bedroom for him to pass out and then cleans up after him, not even bothering to try and drag him to bed.

He lied about drinking and drinking with people that could’ve ended badly.

Maybe I shouldn’t be upset, but I am. I am so upset to the point where I am fighting tears. Is telling me the truth that hard? Is telling me that you are drinking and with them that hard? You know I would warn you, but I would never stop you. I am not going to control you or try to. Is it that hard? Is it so hard to tell me the truth that you do that and I have to learn from your ex-roommate MONTHS later? Months… And how do I learn? I learn when this roommate is drunk and is to the point where he won’t stop talking. Is it that hard to tell me the truth? And if you cheated on me? Or got hurt? Or got lost and couldn’t get home? Because you didn’t want to tell me the truth. Is that why you didn’t want to video chat me some nights when the reason you told me was that the others were loud partying and drunk.

I love you, but I will not be lied to.

I love you and you can smile at me and sing to me, but I won’t take it.

I love you and you can repeat it, but I won’t.

I love you, but I can’t.

So please don’t make me.