He Cheated. I found out. That's about it.

Had some people wonder what happened to the blog.  Well, I'm not an army girlfriend anymore so it seems pretty silly to write about it.

I've been trying for a few weeks now to write something that could do justice to the complicated nature of the end of our relationship.  I might still but I right now it feels quite painful so I'll just give you the bare bones of it.

Between his mother's death and leaving for Afghanistan Craig began a sexual relationship with another woman named Diana, behind my back.  Looking back I could tell that something was wrong but at the time I thought the change in him was only due to the loss of his mom.  The relationship with Diana ended but Craig kept it a secret.  I found out after he'd come here for his mid-tour leave.  I came across some evidence, I confronted him, he denied it, I told him that I knew he was lying and he admitted that he had cheated.  He offered no explanation for what happened, he just left.  Those are the facts.

The most painful part right now is that I don't know if anything in our relationship was real.  It's as if all the good feelings I had about it were based on lies.  When someone lies to you so easily and so often it makes you question everything they've ever said.  

Without Warning

Craig and Julie out on the town.

A week ago I was trying to figure out what still needed to be done.  I got home and put on my PJ's.   My laundry wasn't done, there were dishes in the sink, things were pretty untidy and I was just too tired to do anything about any of it.  I decided to get a good night's sleep and finish cleaning in the morning.  Sitting in bed watching Doctor Who and making a mental list of all the thing I was going to do in the morning I heard my door bell ring.  Nobody rings my doorbell except the sister missionaries and they aren't out at 11:30pm.

Wait.  Let's back-track a bit.  As of the last post I left, Craig was meant to be on his way from KAF (Kandahar Air Field) to Germany or Italy or some other place in Europe.  I was all in a dither and going a bit wiggy.  A day passed without word but I wasn't letting it worry me.  I kept cleaning and running and pushing past my own procrastination.  Then another day passed without word and it was starting to get to me.  Then another and that was when bad thoughts started to have traffic accidents in my head.  (This usually happens when I haven't heard from him in a week.)  What if he's been hurt?  What if he doesn't want to see me?  What if he's lost or stranded and can't call?  What if he's fallen down a ravine or chasm and a boulder or other large object has fallen on his arm and he can't get to his cell phone and he has to slowly cut off his own arm?  As you can see the longer I go without contact the crazier and less likely the scenarios become.  By Wednesday night I'd been eight days since last I'd heard from him and the boulder scene was where my brain had traveled.    

So, there I was, enjoying an very good episode of Doctor Who and trying not to beat myself up after my comedy hosting gig at Muse Cafe when the doorbell rang it's weak little ding dong and my heart skipped a beat.  Late night visitors aren't a good thing but my heart kinda knew that this was no ordinary visitor.  I walked to the door and there he was.  Standing on my porch.  In my city.  Right in front of my eyes.  I imagined seeing him over and over again in my head and still I was shocked.  

Standing there, front door open I turned and darted back into my apartment.  

"You're here.  You're really here."  I repeated over and over again.

"Yup."  Was his answer.

I had left the screen door shut and locked and left him standing on my porch while I absent-mindedly moved things pointlessly around my apartment.  All the while repeating the mantra; 

"You're here.  You're here."  

He replied; "Yes.  I'm here.  Can I come in?"  

I quickly turned, unlocked the door and put my arms around his neck.  He lifted me up and held me there.  Squeezing me until he decided he needed to put me down and kiss me.  He put me down on the step by my door so that we were eye-level with one another.  He put his hands on either side of my face, looked at me like he hadn't seen me in 6 months (and he hadn't) and just layed one on me.   One of those long, slow kisses that just doesn't want to ended.  It did end and the spell was broken.  That's when my neuroses kicked in the door to my brain and I again started pacing around my apartment picking things up and putting them away babbling;

"I'm not ready.  Things were going to be ready.  You're early."  

I couldn't look at him.  It all felt like a dream and if I looked at things too much or payed too close attention to the details I would wake up and it would all disappear.  He finally grabbed my hands and took the clothes out of them.  

"It's such a mess."  I said.  

"You think I really noticed?  All I can see is you.  Sit down."  

I sat and let his deep baritone glide down my insides like the pepto-bismol in commercials from my childhood.  I sat there for a while breathing him, trying not to move or disturb this perfect moment and when it was just right he moved and took off his shoes and we lay down together.  

We stayed up all night talking and well..Not talking as well.  It was a perfect moment in time that even the oppressive sun in all it's smug glory couldn't break it.  We got out of bed and had breakfast and planned what we wanted next.  And we began again, afraid to admit that we couldn't pick up where we had left off but also thankful that wherever we were, it was still wonderful.

Mitch & Micky - A Kiss At The End of The Rainbow

I've gotten a bit of crap for liking this song but it just makes me cry, especially the girl's verse.  Enjoy

His journey begins today!!!!

Oh Ma'Gwad Oh Ma'Gwad Oh Ma'Gwad Oh Ma'Gwad Oh Ma'Gwad Oh Ma'Gwad Oh Ma'Gwad Oh Ma'Gwad Oh Ma'Gwad Oh Ma'Gwad Oh Ma'Gwad Oh Ma'Gwad.

It's 3 days until he gets here and I am so so so sooooooooo excited.  It's an intense gitty feeling like before the first day of school.  Maybe not everyone thinks this way, but I did.  I remember having all my new school clothes and supplies all layed out in my room.  Deciding which outfit to wear and what order the folders were to go in my off-brand Trapper-style Keeper.  Just like now, I had all these plans and ideas of how things were going to go.  Visions of how I wanted things to happen.  At least with age I'm able to accept that my dream scenario and what will actually happen aren't necessarily going to meet.

Time is moving sooo sssllloowwwlllyy.  I woke-up this morning and I could swear it was Wednesday at least.  But alas, it is not and will not be, for a whole 'nother day.  It's good.  Things aren't quite ready for him to be here.  I want everything to be perfect.  I've been nesting like crazy in my apartment.  Scrubbing and rescrubbing every little thing, I bought a new vacuum cleaner and have been vacuuming the 50 sq ft of visible carpet in my apartment everyday, making lists of things that still need to be done and things that he might need.  You'd think the pope was coming to stay with me.

The new vacuum cleaner.

On top of that there's all the stuff I'm doing to myself.  Mani-pedi of course.  Because the first thing that a man coming from a war zone will notice is weather or not my nails are painted.  Waxings of various kinds, facials, lotions, exfoliations, etc etc etc.  There's the dieting--by dieting I really mean the attempt to avoid food all together (Mind you, I'm totally eating.  I just avoid it when I can.)  Half to try to look dehydrated and gaunt (men dig that right?) and half because I'm just too nervous to eat and the closer he gets the more nervous I get.  I'm also kicking it up in the working out department.  In general, I'm a work out 4 days a week kind of gal but lately it's been ratcheted-up.  I just want to be able to keep up with him.  He's had six months of nothing but working, reading, movies, and working out.  He's gotten himself ripped where as before he was quilted, like me.  On top of all the prep there is the general wigging out that I've been doing.  Which I think is okay.  I was having drinks with some friends last night and one said that if I wasn't freaking out she'd think something was really wrong with me.

Still don't know exactly when he'll be here but I will know soon.

Tooele Transcript Bulletin - Tooele loses first soldier in war

Tooele Transcript Bulletin - Tooele loses first soldier in war

I didn't know this guy but he's from back home.  A year ago I might have read this and thought; "Sad." and moved on.  I still will move on but now he seems real.  His death sticks to me.  Funny the change a little perspective will give you. I think about death a bit but this is the first guy from back home to die in the war.  Somehow that surprises me and gives me comfort.  So many go, but so many more come back.

My thoughts tonight are with his wife.

They also serve who only stand and wait.

Had an interesting discussion with one of my regular guests at work.  It was all about the military and deployment so I thought I would share it with all of you.  

First a little background.  Mr. D (I'm going to call him that because there's no reason to use his real name) is a middle-aged man with whom I have many good conversations.  He works upstairs from the restaurant and comes down for drinks several times a week.  When he was a young man he was set to be drafted into the Vietnam war but as luck would bless him, his number never came up.  

As most of my regular customers know Craig will be here very soon.  I pretty much tell everyone everyday, how many days are left until I'll see him.  Eight, by the way.  I was talking to him and another man and Mr D said something that seemed to stick to me.  He said that he thought the mid-tour leave seemed like torture.  He thought that it must be traumatic for these men/women to come home and get a taste of normal only to be sent back.  I quickly disagreed with him.  I said that the real torture is the thought that the end would be so far into the horizon.  At least, with it broken up like this, it feels more manageable.  Especially for those that have done this multiple times.  He told me that in Vietnam the men would be sent for the whole year.  He thought that that was more humane.  He said that if it were him he'd rather it that way.  But the men in Vietnam weren't volunteers and when they were done with there tour they were done, period.  And they didn't have men on their third, fourth, fifth tours.  There is just a huge difference between then and now.  

I guess I just see it too much from my perspective.  And that makes me think that maybe the mid-tour leave isn't for them.  Maybe it's really for us.  The wives and girlfriends and mothers and dads and everyone else that isn't made for all of this.  Craig is strong.  Stronger than I even understand.  I'm sure that if the army told him that he would be gone for a year without leave he could do it without thinking twice.  But I don't think that I could.  I don't think I could make it until next March if I didn't know he'd be here in eight days.  Because it's not just the separation, it's all the ideas that are the only thing you have to hold on to.  Aside from the separation there is SO MUCH FEAR.  Sometimes it feels like being told that some I love has a deadly disease.  There's nothing I can do but hope and support and try to find the silver lining.  But I know that no matter how much I hope there is always the chance that I'll get a call one day telling me that it's all over.  That he didn't make it.  It makes me feel so completely powerless.  I know that no matter how bad it is for me he's the one that's in danger and I am safe at home writing about it.  But I still envy his ability to take action and steer his fate.  If he didn't come back I would be crushed.  My life would be changed and there is NOTHING I CAN DO ABOUT IT. 

There I go thinking too much again.  Eight days.  It's so close.  I really am happy and excited.

"Approximately", that's army for; "whenever".

Something I didn't know and still don't understand about the army is how they handle travel arrangements.  At least for the one guy I know.  While Craig was in the states travel was mildly straight forward.  I remember he had to fly to Denver for some Run-fastest/stand-straightest solider contest.  As I recall, all that needed to be done was to book a flight.  There was a certain amount of red tape but nothing like the adventure he's had getting to and now coming back from Afghanistan.  I understand that Denver and Afghanistan are a few miles away from one another but somehow I can't wrap my head around the fact that an organization that prides itself on organization and discipline can so often be wishy-washy and haphazard.

When I say approximately 10 days I mean just that.  I don't know when he's actually arriving.  Nor does he.  Nor will he.  For hours or even days into his trip he will not know when he might reach his final destination.  He calls it; "Hitchhiking on Uncle Sam's dime."  I call it crazy with a backwards K. (Sadly I lack the compy to actually spell it that way).  So he leaves on the 19th and could arrive home anytime between then and the 24th.  It was the same getting there for him.  On the first leg of his trip they told him to hang out in an air force hanger.  Literally, hang out.  They had no idea when a flight might be going and he needed to be ready at a moments notice.  Then the army shuffled him from place to place, finally leaving him stranded in Kuwait.  I called it Kuwait-ing (as opposed to what he does now which is Afghanistan-ding around).  In the end he, quite literally, had to hitchhike to Afghanistan.  Thumbing rides from one place to the next on military transport making his way slowly to his base.  I wonder what they did during past wars, shuffle man after man on a train and hope they get to the right place?  Military precision is a joke.  I don't know, maybe I shouldn't speak in generalities.  I know very little beyond my own experience on this subject.  But I digress.  I'm so happy and excited that a few days plus or minus mean very little.  I have so many things planned, dear reader.  I will write about all of them.  But for now that is all.  I will probably write again before he arrives.  Hopefully with more news.