Shoot, guys. It’s coming up fast. According to my nifty countdown app, we are at 4% left. However, do not be fooled by my technological prowess, friends. I do have a calendar on the wall and I’ve been crossing off days with a Sharpie since I hung it up January 1.
Before we actually went through a deployment, I had all these media-fed ideas of what it would be like. Some of it has come to pass, like the uncertainty of dates, dropped Skype calls, and crazy math to figure out differences in time zones. But some of it won’t be like what you see on TV, or even from homecoming pictures and videos (which, btdubs, make me bawl my eyes out). For us it’ll be different because of the nature of his mission over there. There won’t be a huge ceremony or large formations (thank GOD)… we’re not hiring a photographer… he didn’t wear multi-cam… no skanky dresses (at least not for me!)… I’m not making glittery signs with questionable verbiage about the nature of the first night together. The moment will be more private and mostly ours. I keep thinking I’ll pick him up in the middle of the night, but who knows.
I’ve been in an emotional vacuum for these last couple months as far as the anticipation of homecoming. After you’ve been through long separations like this, you learn to shut off that part of yourself. It’s good, really, because anything else is just a roller coaster, and you save yourself from potential disappointment. But now that we’re getting so close, my emotions are sputtering to life.
For us, and for lots of military couples out there, life will be all different but the same all at once. I can’t just drop my whole life in order to reacclimate my husband to our life stateside. It’s a strange feeling, because I had always pictured being able to just fall off the face of the planet during block leave. But that’s not even an accurate picture of life. Life has been going on despite the distance… actually, lots has been going on since he left in May… daresay the most important parts of the past few years that we’ve lived here. It’s hard when you realize that there are large chunks of your marriage that you haven’t shared with each other. I can barely put in words what it’s like to be married and be “one” and all that, but at the same time not be “one.” It’s a very strange feeling. Like phantom limbs.
In the end part of reintegrating into life together is accepting that the other person has had experiences, good or bad, that have shaped them throughout the separation… experiences that you will never get to go through with them. Another part is for me to realize that I won’t have to do everything on my own anymore. I don’t have to take out the trash all the time, or call customer service, or vacuum (can you tell which “jobs” are his?). And while from the outside it may look like it’s easy to let him do those things again, there’s a defiant and resistant part of me that says, “I can do it myself!”
I like the woman I’ve become throughout this deployment. I’ve become more stable emotionally (we’ll see if that sticks…), I’ve learned to take things to God in prayer right away… I’ve learned to just take most things in stride. I’ll be 28 in April and I feel like I’m better, more of who I’ve wanted to become. If that makes any sense. I feel different this time around; definitely more at peace and less anxious.
I want to be able to be that woman when life is complete again. The problem with love and marriage and relationships is that there are emotions… a lot of them. I’ve been so used to being alone, living alone, that sometimes I just don’t react to things that I normally would have if he were here… there’s no one to immediately react to my reactions (unless I call or text a friend), so then it seems silly to react, ya know? And the dog, well, she just looks at me with her enormous, ridiculously buggy eyes and she just gets it. No explanation needed. But even though there will be someone here with me, the someone, I hope I can still have self-control about certain things.
March is going to be a busy month, and we won’t even be together for half of it. That’s right, not even half. He needs to see our family, and I will still be in the middle of the semester and then traveling to Portland to present my research. April and May will also be busy months.. but I’m hoping that after graduation, things can settle back in to normal life, whatever the eff that is. That is, of course, unless we move. 😉 See? Always on the go. Never a dull moment.
Anyway.. I just needed to get some thoughts out so I can go to sleep in peace. There were far too many voices in my head. And now I’ll get all comfy in my bed with the dog… poor thing doesn’t know what’s coming, and I don’t have the heart to tell her. 😉
mercies per mile 
Oh man. Yes, yes, yes. All of it. I’ve been there. I am there. I’m headed there. I can relate to every word you’ve written. Just so you know that you aren’t alone in these feelings.
Our reintegration last time was really rough. (I didn’t help that there was so much upheaval so soon after we were reunited: I moved to Germany and became a stay-at-home wife for a while, his brother’s illness progressed and he died, we moved back to Texas.) We struggled to re-find ourselves and each other during that entire year.
Hopefully your reintegration won’t take as long or be nearly as rocky. Honestly, I think it will be to your benefit that you will be busy and life will continue as normal in many ways. I’m thinking about y’all and keeping you in my prayers!
Thanks for your comment; it’s good to know that I’m not alone in all these thoughts! Sometimes when I write I think, no one will understand this, it’s too… whatever. Sounds like you guys dealt with a ton after his last deployment, wow. In our experience, things tend to happen while he’s gone,, forcing me to rely on people wherever I am and learning how to be strong. We covet your prayers, thank you.