Outside the usual issue

I have a sister. I love her, but our past is rough.

It’s come to my attention that she has a new man while not being on birth control and this makes me want to shit myself. I had to off-handedly raise my mentally ill mother and sister after we (my sister and myself) were sexually abused as children. My sister never stepped out to try and pull herself together after this ordeal. Going to court trails for years made me into a different person.

My sister used it as an excuse to give up and to justify her bad and negative behavior.

Back to the thought…. If my sister gets pregnant….

That child won’t be safe or well in whatever “home” my sister 50/50 tries to give it.

 

I have decided that if she gets pregnant, I will be going to court for custody. I will not let that child be hurt the way my sister hurt me (physically and emotional). I want to give that kid better than the small social security check. I can provide with the job I have that she’s never had. I want the best for this child. I pray to God that she is infertile. I wish no harm to my sister, I just can’t wish her something that will cause another human being to be hurt either.

I haven’t brought this up with my sailor. From our former and recent conversations, he wants to wait til after my degree for kids. I get that, but I won’t let that kid be harmed. I’ll do it by myself (with the help of other family) if I have to.

 

 

Not My Place

Death was our first big conversation if you remember or had read my other posts… well, it will be coming up again soon and I am terrified. His great grandma is so close to deaths door and I don’t know what I am supposed to do. As his girl, I know I am here to help him through this and support his family, but it is a hard thing to do. He’s deployed in a completely different part of the world and his family is in a different state. I’m not sure what all my words can do to comfort. I feel that they will mean close to nothing. I love his family and know how crushing this will be. I hate watching already what it does to his mother, I am super close to her. He does not yet how close she is to passing and I am terrified for when he finds out. I want to call the chaplain after it happens to make sure they check up on him, but I don’t want to give him unwanted attention.

I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I’ve never been in this position before.

His mom updates me often on his great grandmas health and I can tell it is right around the corner if not today. His mom seems so strong, but I can tell she is scared and fights tears a lot. Her husband is really supportive for which I am grateful. Her husband is a good man, but I wish I were there for the family too.

My sailor should know what’s going on completely with his great grandma…. but it’s not my place.

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.

 

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. 

 

 

 

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

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.

At 1832

Riding in the backseat of the car was not how I was expecting my summer to start with. I was going on a family business trip to the farm and was not really thrilled to be doing it. I didn’t feel like doing anything productive after months of straining my brain to learn in school and then a new job. I would say that taking one week off before hitting life back upon activities sounds well deserved. Being on business, everyone in contact with our business knew my phone number and calls only when they can’t reach the other two immediate company owners. At this point, I am used to getting calls that I don’t recognize the number or even show up as unknown. I have been lucky that I haven’t had many times to receive such calls, but there are a few a week.

On the way to the farm today, my cousin’s phone rang while they weren’t in the car. By the time they got back, the phone was no longer ringing. We didn’t have time at the moment to call back and all agreed that if they called again, we would return the favor. I sat back, hoping the small mission of ours would be over so I could go home and read a new series I had been introduced to. Getting back into the car, music going, my family and I were happy. It was sunny out and there was a rainbow over towards the West. I honestly couldn’t imagine a more relaxing day even if I wanted to be home.

When the unknown number came up on my phone screen, I didn’t think about it and laughed at the joke my family whispered before I held the phone to my ear. I answer how I always answer now that my family runs a business.

“This is Marie, how can I help you?” Hoping whoever was calling would be quick and I could go back to my joke with my family.

“Hey, my Marie. How are you?” His voice came through the phone. As if by instinct, my hand flies to my mouth and tears start to well in my eyes. My family glances at me and raise their eyebrows at me. I don’t cry on the phone unless it’s really bad news and it has always been with them that it has happened.  I haven’t heard his voice since he said he loved me, leaving the airport to go back to base. That was months ago.

“Hi, I love you. I miss you. God, I am so happy to hear your voice.”

 

And just as suddenly as it started, it had to come to an end. The call was longer than what I would expect a call, but it was one to have none the less. I wasn’t sure if I would get a call until they got into port. I don’t know when they will get into port or which ones. All I know is that I can’t wait to hear his voice again.

With all the different, difficult things that have been happening lately, I feel I needed this. I needed him. It has been a few hours since the call and I  can tell you that my heart is still beating just as fast and the butterflies I normally get from one email have tripled and stayed in my stomach. I have been with him and I can honestly say that I love him. But what makes me really happy is that I am in love with him too. People see it as the same thing. It is not. Loving someone is a choice, being in love is more of an emotional hormone. I choose to love him and somehow, even after this long, I am still in love with him. People often call it the honeymoon phase and say that it always ends at some point, but I challenge that and ask, when?

 

I love and am in love with my hero, one of America’s heroes.

Hooyah