In Port

Depoyment, oh deployment.

Hurry up and wait can kiss my pearly white ass. Im tired of waiting but I love the man and will gladly do it for him. He has been working so hard and I am so proud of him. I also miss him it hurts deep in my gut.

i have been lucky to get emails daily and be able to stay in contact with his family. It makes me feel closer to him. Like the other day, I spent two hours on the phone with his mom until one am my time until she’s almost passed out. She is such a sweet woman.

Hes been in port twice now of being on deployment and he’s having a good time with deployment. Except people aren’t doing some of their working and he’s picking up their slack. He’s feeling some pressure and in all honesty, I’m not always sure how to help comfort him. There’s only so many ways you can say “you’re doing a good job and I’m proud of you and I’m sure it’ll get better and etc”…. I don’t know much else to say. I know the phone calls and care packages and being in port really brighten his spirits. I’m glad they come close together for him. Makes me sad for other sailors who may not have packages or letters. I wouldn’t know. I’ve asked my sailor for monthly lists of small things that sailors that don’t get things would like from Home so that would get things. I might as well try.

For the first time in months, I got to see him. It was but for a few seconds, but it was long enough for him to say he loved me. It made me so happy. He’s in port and his hair just cut and he still needs to shave, but he’s still handsome.

I love him!!!!

Hooyah

 

What Now?

So, I’m a Christian as is my sailor, but we didn’t keep one of the big things we needed to as our religion asks of us.

I gave my purity ring to him to throw in the ocean. He promised to do that for me at my request for what we had done and I do not regret being with him. I do not regret making love to him at all. I do not regret putting this out to the world because everyone does it and it isn’t something to be ashamed about. I love him and we showed that to each other in a physical way.

I gave him my purity ring and cried though. I felt I had broken a very important promise to my God and felt guilty only in that sense. I would never regret being with my sailor. He was my first and I was his first. He held me, asking what was wrong, listening as I told him I felt we had broken a promise but not feeling bad. He stroked my hair and listened, promising to throw the ring in the ocean. I also told him I was scared that he wouldn’t want to be my forever person. I had always wanted to give my virginity to my husband, my forever person as my religion had always told me was right. I told him I was scared he wouldn’t want that and I would understand people change, but that in the future he would change his mind. I did not mean to bring it up as to talk about marriage then, just to talk about the fear.

I had gotten sick. He took care of me. When I was done throwing up, he was quiet and looking at me, sitting on the bathroom counter. “I will have shore duty in a few years, assuming I sign again and I want to marry then”, he said calmly as if it were a fact he had been thinking for a while.

It was nice to hear and then he deployed.

As time passed from when he stepped on the plane to leave me, it has been eating me alive. Had I pressured him to say something? I really didn’t know and I was scared to ask.

I emailed him, now two and a half months into deployment, telling him I couldn’t Do what we once talked about when I was sick. I didn’t explain, but he knew what I was talking about. I left it simple and didn’t want to explain. I told him I want to stay with him but not go any further than what we were. I used to want to marry him someday when we were a little older, but not after feeling I had maybe pressured him. It was eating at me.

He emailed me back quickly, frantic, asking what changed and if we were breaking up and tell him what was wrong. I did not know how to word what I wanted to say so I didn’t say anything and I know I was wrong for that.

He spent over $200 on a phone card to call me.

“You can’t beat around the bush, that is not what our relationship is going to be. If there is a problem tell me directly so we can fix it as fast as possible and then go about life as happy as possible, do you understand me?”-Him

“Telling your boyfriend you don’t want to marry them isn’t something you write in a fucking email and I didn’t know how much privacy you had and doubted you wanted other sailors to see my saying that!”- Me

“I don’t give a shit what they think about our relationship. It’s ours not theirs. And as of not wanting to get married, that’s fine for now. We will work on that. I want you to continue to think we won’t because I can tell what it’s doing to you and stop feeling guilty, I hear it in your voice”-Him

 

“For now”…. He is determined to marry me, that much is clear. It makes me feel much better about the whole thing, but I still haven’t changed my mind. I don’t want to get married and don’t plan on changing my mind. He is patient and is smart and I trust he will work on it with me.

I guess I’m engaged. I’m not engaged. He thinks we will get married. We won’t, but he swears we will.

Battle of wits. Battle of the sexes.

Maybe Next Time

Well, so far, deployment is going okay. My anxiety with life is high and I don’t know what I’m always going to do. I’ve been staying and that helps a lot. Writing this and reading a  lot of books and working more shifts definitely keeps me so busy that I’m sometimes too tired to be worried about anything. I know this also isn’t a good thing though. It will probably end up with me burning out sooner or later. But after doing this for about a month so far, I haven’t. I think I’m doing better. I feel better. I feel like I’m managing my emotions and etc much better.

But the thing that made my weekend was when he pulled into port and I got a text and picture of him smiling so big at me. I hadn’t seen his smile in a new picture in months. I woke up to that and I honestly squealed and just looked. This made my heart race. A schoolgirl all over again.

We texted until four in the morning (my time) and just talked about random things. Things about the past. About when he visited. About what we would have to do together in the future. About our families. About work on both ends. About a lot. This made me happy, I am happy.

Until I woke up one day three that I thought he would be able to talk.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I had to leave. I’m sorry we didn’t talk more. I’m sorry that we didn’t get the chance to video chat. I’m sorry that I had to leave you. I promise I’ll come home to you. I’m sorry. I love you. I’m sorry.”

Waking up to that both made my heart grow for the man and broke it at the same time. I know he would come to me. I know he didn’t like leaving for the job, I didn’t like it either, but I had learned to quietly gain the strength to push past that.

Going in to work today, I fought to stay numb until I could really smile. I fought to stay numb until I had a conversation that had me distracted enough to not think about it. I am grateful for the time I had to talk with him while he was in port. I am grateful that I got new pictures.

I am also greedy and want him more than I got.

Until next time.

Yes, next time.

 

Hell Yes

I am finished!

I’m done. Here I am summer. I am good to go.

I am sitting here, waiting to have the weather be good enough to go swimming. I am a mermaid. I can not wait. I have a two piece for the first time in my life and I feel comfortable wearing it in public. It’s a black halter top and hot pink shorts. I have to admit that I feel absolutely sexy in them. I don’t wear them to get other guys attention, I couldn’t care less. I wear it because I deserve to feel sexy whenever the hell I want. I deserve it everyday.

Sorry, I feel beyond successful today. I finished another year of schooling and this is something I should be proud of. I am one more day closer to working in the hospital.

I had a dream about it the other day. I was in the emergency room, a guy bleeding pretty bad and I stopped it. We almost lost him, but we all saved him. I woke up, my chest beating so hard, but I was excited. I watch so medical shows. I watch surgeries while I cook or listen to medical lectures while I clean.

I went to the public city library today and sat on the floor with books around me. I was in heaven. So many books! Heaven! All I could think was that I hoped this was how I could get in the hospital quickest. I want it so bad.

I finished another year.

I can’t wait to tell him when I get home. I’m going to ask for him to call me. I hope he will. I really hope. I’ll be praying. I miss his voice.

Our Real World

Work was really good today. I had fun. My coworkers and I got a lot of work done today and may have been able to nick some stuff off of tomorrows work. We all worked with awesome, classic rock music. We all didn’t mind humming along and still running around to get the job done. We made phone calls and took care of our customers. We did really good today.

The store gave all the workers free food. I took some and had to leave to go back to work. I am not allowed to eat on the floor but wanted that cookie. A vendor nearby had the same color shirt I was wearing and I walked up next to him. I asked plain and simple if I could use him to hide from the store owners. He laughed and was my watch out. I had never seen the guy before and wasn’t near him for more than three minutes. He did a good job, I finished my cookie without getting in trouble.

It was a good day.

Went shopping for the coming week, ya know. Got some breakfast food. I got some bacon! I got random things. Got ready to go catch the bus to go home. Got on. I was warm. No one talked to me. I had all my things gathered and I was ready to go.

But the bus wasn’t moving. Something was wrong.

A guy a seat ahead of me and the other side was rummaging through his bag and a girl behind me was crying, her hand covering her mouth. I honestly didn’t get what was going on at first. The bus driver didn’t get out from behind his bullet-proof door attached to his seat and then used the intercom.

“Weapons are illegal on this form of transportation. You need to get off or the police will be here to escort you off.”

Seeing the flash of the handgun into his bag as he started screaming, I thought of all the things I wouldn’t get to do with my family. How I didn’t get the chance to tell them I loved them an hour ago. How I didn’t get to really go swimming this summer and get a stupid sunburn because I stupidly didn’t put enough sunscreen on. I thought about my boyfriend. He writes me an email almost every day and expects one back. I wouldn’t be able to and he would probably hear from his mother. I thought about his mom and how close we have gotten.

In the past week, there have been five more shootings. I didn’t want to be apart of those numbers. Please God, don’t make me that number. I started praying, tears rolling down my face. I don’t want to die.

The fight continued until the man got off.

I made it home and I am safe. All of this happened and the thing taught me something very sad. My boyfriend is out there, somewhere only God knows, to save us from the bad guys. YET we have no regrets being the bad guys to each other. This scares me almost more than knowing what my sailor does.

I was once told by a shipmate of my man’s…. “we are safer being deployed than you are as a civilian on the streets these days”. I brushed it off until today.

 

 

PLEASE STOP THE HATE AND LOWER THOSE NUMBERS

WHATEVER IT IS THAT MAKES YOU OR YOUR FRIEND WANT TO DO THIS, PLEASE DON’T. PLEASE STOP AND THINK ABOUT FAMILY, YOURS AND EVERYONE ELSES. 

PLEASE HELP BE THE CHANGE EVERYONE TALKS ABOUT. 

 

 

 

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