FAMILY WEEKEND AT FT KNOW

Days crept by, nights were long, cold and lonely, and not a single day passed that I didn't daydream about being in his arms again. I wrote many letters, went through many boxes of Kleenex, and found a support group in my family and friends.

Finally, six weeks after he left, and merely nine weeks from the date we were united in marriage, I got a phone call that Family Weekend was nearing, and I could come and see him. My heart raced as I packed a suitcase and hit the road.

The drive was long, my thoughts fluttered, and finally I arrived at the Super 8 Hotel in Elizabeth Town, KY. I had difficulties sleeping that night, as I simply couldn't wait to see my husband.

Finally, it was time to get ready...and boy did I ever!!! I spent hours curling my hair and making sure everything was perfect. I remember that I wore his favorite jeans and an Army green tank top with front pockets, along with my Tiffany "dog tags" necklace. I waited for what seemed like an eternity for the call to come, but it didn't...so, I drove to the base and wondered around aimlessly, unsure of where I was going...but knowing exactly whom I was looking for! Everyone looked the same to me though...uniforms, boots, shaved heads. The buildings were like little soldiers, all lined up perfectly, all seemingly identical to the one before it and after it...

It was much later that evening, and I had returned alone to the hotel, saddened, disheartened, confused...but I finally got the call that I could come get him! I raced to get there as quickly as I could, and I'll never forget when I first saw him! I couldn't get to him fast enough, and I wrapped my arms around him for the biggest hug I could ever remember giving: "no public display of affection", he said to me as he pushed me away at arms length...

He showed me around, this had been his new "home", new people, new friends, new environment. His world had changed, while mine remained exactly the same, only without him...

We left the base and went to Red Lobster; he wanted to have "a real meal". I remember staring at him; I watched as he ate, I watched as he talked, and as he smiled. I couldn't soak him up enough!!!

That night, at the hotel, he reached up to put his bag on the top shelf of the closet. He had taken a shower and didn't have a shirt on. I smiled...because his arms and shoulders evidenced the intense training he had undergone while he was away. Finally, after two and a half years of watching his 6'2" frame wither away to a mere 130 pounds, he looked healthy. I saw a pride in him that I had never before seen. I saw a sincere smile, a solace self. I was proud of the man I loved, possibly for the first time since I met him.

People had asked me why I would marry a drug addict, and I couldn't for the life of me explain it to anyone. I loved him, yes...but more than that I saw something in him that even HE failed to recognize. He was brilliant, he was capable, and he was able to be so much more. The Army had given him what I knew he deserved, and made him into the man that I was proud to call my husband.

We talked all night long;neither of us wanting to go to sleep, because we knew that meant we only had one remaining day to be together. We held on to those moments for as long as we could before sleep beckoned us in....

The next morning, I awoke in the same position I went to sleep in...in his arms...and it felt so good to be there! I lied there quietly and watched him sleep, and I prayed that it would go on for much longer.

.....

The day flew by, and it was time to say our good-byes. He hugged me, kissed me, told me he loved me, and walked away. I stood at my Jeep door, not wanting to move, but knowing I had to. I tried to be strong in his presence, as to not upset him. As I backed out of my parking spot, I looked back at him; he was sitting under a tent with two other soldiers, his knees bent up, his elbows resting upon them and his face in his hands. I knew he was crying without seeing the tears...

As I drove away that day, I cried..and I cried...and I cried the entire drive back home, but I left knowing that this was the beginning and not the end. I knew this was the life we both wanted, and that we would be able to take this journey together.

And so it goes...

And so my story begins; two weeks after we said our vows, I watched my husband get in a van behind the Army recruiter office. I sat in my Jeep and watched him get in the van; he sat next to a window, and I watched as they drove away...

I felt like a part of me was vanishing into thin air; I felt a huge empty spot in my heart that day. As I drove the 45 minute drive back to our two bedroom apartment, there was not a single moment that I was not crying. When I got home, it was so solemn and quiet. Everything was a reminder of my missing half: his clothes still hanging in our closet, his cup sitting on the kitchen table, his shoes lined up by the front door, his shampoo and bar of soap in the shower. It was a long time before I got used to not having him around....

He had left for Kentucky, where he was going through AIT. It would be weeks before I was able to see him at family weekend; I never knew when or if I would receive a phone call, so I kept the phone next to me at all times. The phone became my sidekick; it went to bed with me at night, it went to the bathroom with me, even sat next to the tub while I showered or bathed. The phone calls were always short, but we never hung up without telling one another how much we missed eachother and loved eachother.

I missed him......I truely missed him......and I knew beyond a reasonable doubt that my love for him was never ending.

Starting over, starting my blog.

Hi there,

For the sake of myself, my family and...gulp...the man that I still hesitantly love, I am going to remain anonymous and do my very best to not divulge any names and/or personal information on this blog.

I am starting this blog because I am beginning a scary journey, and I regret to think that there are many other women (and possibly men as well) that have been down this road, are going down this road, and many that will later find this blog helpful as they too begin the same journey.

Unfortunately, I believe it is all too common for military spouses to experience what I have experienced, and no doubt will continue to experience for some time. It saddens me to think that this is a realization, but I hope that this blog can be of help to another individual out there...and I hope that someone may come by this blog one day and perhaps be able to offer me some words of wisdom and words of encouragement along the way...Lord knows I could use them!!!

So let me get to the point. After five years of marriage, one child, two deployments to Iraq, a move abroad, and many lonely nights, I find myself in the midst of a divorce from my military husband. The reasons are many, but the questions are even more. I never thought we would become a statistic, but that is what we are now. We are just another military marriage that didn't work out, for one reason or another. I truely believed in my heart that he and I could make it through anything. My love for him was strong, and I had no reason to believe that his was any less.

THE BEGINNING:

We had dated for over two years when we said our vows before family, friends and most importantly God. At the time, he was not yet in the military, but had served perviously. It was 2005, and he simply could not find a job that would support our simple life. I was in school full-time and only one semester away from my degree. A history of narcotics use had plagued our relationship; so when he came to me and said he wanted to join the military for the betterment of himself and our family, I could not argue.