Sometimes, even though I know I am, I really don't feel strong enough. This will be added to and continued as I think of the many more things that go through my head every single day.
I can't stand being lonely all the time. I hate that when I reach for his hand, it isn't there. I hate how I have to talk to myself in the car because I'm always driving everywhere alone. I can't sleep when there are other people in the bed because I know they're not him and when there are others in the bed, I get vivid flashbacks of when we used to be able to cuddle close and these memories bring me short of breath. I hate that I can't function like a normal human being and go about my daily life without some sort of interruption or reminder. I'll be standing in a store and all of a sudden, out of nowhere, I'll get a vivid flashback of a time he and I spent happily together or I'll hear a noise that sounds similar to the Skype call sound on my computer and be reminded again that this is what my life is now. I hate that he can't watch me play softball anymore because he's never home during the season. I hate knowing that, if he were home, he'd be playing co-ed ball with me just because it would make me happy. I hate knowing that this was the best route for our relationship to take because, if not for the Marine Corps, he would never have straightened out and I know my life would be totally different. I hate not being able to text him and let him know he's on my mind. I hate that he is always my main concern yet I can't always be his. I hate that even though I have two jobs, I still don't work enough and the tasks I do don't get my mind off of him for even a second. I hate seeing other couples holding hands because that is one of the things that I miss most. I hate seeing girls complain about not seeing their boyfriends for a couple of days when I don't get to see the man I'm engaged to for months at a time, let alone hear from him for days to weeks at a time. I hate worrying about what war will be coming next and whether or not he'll be sent to it. I hate that I sleep alone. I hate that I shower alone. I hate that in order for me to sleep at night, I have to either read his boot camp letters over again, look at old pictures of us, or picture us snuggling in bed together. I hate that in the shower I'm bombarded with memories of washing his hair and back and him washing my back as well as the rest of my body. I hate dreaming at night about him because, in the morning, I really believe he's home. I hate being underestimated. Most of all, I hate being without my best friend in the whole wide world.
I miss the way we share shower space and water. I miss having conversations about our days; especially those conversations that happen so naturally in the shower. I miss the way he used to answer my question of "What are you doing?" with "Exploooooring". I miss the way his lips feel against mine. I miss the intimacy of a relationship that one can only get through physical contact. I miss the different sounds he makes when he snuggles deeper under the covers to get warm. I miss the way he kisses my forehead. I miss the way he absentmindedly reaches for my hand. I miss being a passenger. I miss the kind of hugs that only a best friend and lover can give. I miss giving and receiving back rubs. I miss receiving foot rubs. I miss being five minutes away from each other. I miss the way he looks at me. I miss the way he looks at the ring he put on my finger. I miss being able to read his mind just from a look on his face. I miss being able to see his face clearly instead of fuzzy or not at all. I miss having him to wake up (crying) to after a vivid and realistic nightmare. I miss waking up and being able to tell him those warm fuzzy dreams. I miss trying to fight sleep in order to spend more conscious time together. I miss the way that our bodies fit perfectly together when we hold one another. I miss reading his facial expressions like an open book. Most of all, I miss him.
I love the intimacy of letters. I love dreaming about him after a long hard day, even though I hate waking up thinking he's home. I love the anticipation of a phone call, Skype call, letter, or package. I love the anticipation of his receiving a package I sent. I love the swell of pride I feel every time I see him. I love him in any of his uniforms, even in his Michael Myers looking ones and especially his dress blues. I love how time seems to stand still for our relationship and we pick right back up where we left off the next time we see on another. I love that he's travelling and seeing the world. I love that he wishes I was there with him. I love that sunsets remind him of me. I love that I know how to calm him down after a hard day. I love that he knows just how to make me laugh. I love that he trusts me with his whole heart. I love that I can trust him. I love knowing that I am strong enough to do this. I love giving other good military girlfriends, fiancees, and wives a good name. I love the feeling of solidarity it brings to those of us in the same situations. I love the pride I feel and the lump in my throat whenever I hear the National Anthem sung or played. I love how romantic he can be. I love proving him wrong about my emotional strength. I love being able to still catch his subtleties over a blurry Skype call. I love calling him out on surprises when he thinks he's being so sneaky. I love the surprises, anyway. I love his laugh. I love his smile. I love the way he laughs when he sees something that's really cute and that he finds adorable (like pandas on a slide). I love that I can still picture the way we kiss and daydream about it. I love his confidence. I love his vulnerability that he only shows to me. I love how deeply he cares, even though he tries to smother it. I love how he reaches out to people he doesn't even know to make sure they are alright. I love that he's beginning to love what he does. I love that he always sticks up for me and always sticks up for himself. I love how he can admit to being wrong. I love that he can apologize and mean it. I love that he is so incredibly humble. I love the look in his eyes when he sees me after a long separation. I love the feel of his arms wrapped around me. I love his dirty mind. I love how when he looks at me he seems to see no one else. I love the look on his face when he proposed to me (and I love that my family caught it in a photograph). I love when he tells me he's proud of me, even if it's something that doesn't pertain to real life... like my softball games. I love that he tells me the truth, even if it's hard to take. I love how he knows exactly how to say the truth or whatever it is he needs to say to keep me from getting defensive. I love how when he does slip up and say something that pisses me off, he always knows just how to make it better. Most of all, I love him.
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