Two's company, indeed.

I miss my husband. I really, really do. I miss snuggling on the couch and watching television with him. I miss having someone to make dinner for (shocker, I know) and sitting down to eat with at our kitchen table every night. I miss taking trips with him, even if it's just to Costco (I even miss him pronouncing it Cost-Co) so he can walk down every aisle and spend way more money than I ever thought possible on things I never knew we needed (and I'm still not convinced we did). I miss having him in my bed, in my house, in my life. I knew when I married him that he would deploy again soon and that I would be left alone in a brand new state with no friends and no family. (Well, that's not entirely true. We already had friends living in San Diego who have been so supportive and I'm also very lucky to have family in a nearby city.) Even though I don't mind being on my own, it's not easy to say goodbye to your closest, best, and only friend in your new city. There's certainly a difference in saying goodbye for a month-long training exercise in Northern California and saying goodbye for a year-long deployment in a war zone. That's a whole 'nother type of "alone".

My husband had said to me (several times, in fact) that maybe having a roommate might not be a bad idea. I think he was concerned about me being all alone, day in and day out, with no one to talk to but the cat. I resisted because, really, I didn't want a roommate for the entire year he was going to be gone. I like my privacy and I like having to only think for myself (and my kitty, of course). I didn't want to have to worry about eating dinner together or who gets to watch which favorite television show on any given night. My worst fear was feeling uncomfortable in my own home. So when a girl I knew said she was buying a condo, but was going to have to sleep on her mom's couch until the condo was finished being built, I offered her our spare bedroom. I sort of shocked myself by making the offer, but this particular situation seemed ideal. She wasn't a stranger, she was friendly and sweet, and she had a set departure time to get out of my house. (Um, that was not intended to sound as rude as it probably did.) You know what I mean, right? A friend says they "just need a place to crash and I promise I won't be a bother and it will only be for a few weeks until I can find my own place" and then they're loud and messy and won't get off your couch for three months.

So I let her move in and it's been great. Because you know what I forgot? It's kinda fun to live with a girl! I hadn't really done that since my first two years of college at Indiana Wesleyan University. I had forgotten how great it was to stay up until the wee hours of the morning, talking about boys and clothes and life. It's fun to have a marathon of Disney movies, following up The Little Mermaid with Mulan and then completing the trifecta with Pocahontas. The house is full of sweet stuff and no one questions your decision to have a bowl of ice cream after eating a (giant) handful of candy corn. If anything, she asks you to bring some for her, too. I like being able to buy a new dress and going across the hall to get another girl's opinion on whether it still looks pretty at home and it wasn't just another "well, it looked good on the hanger..." impulse purchase. If I run out of cotton balls or other feminine necessities, I don't have to make a grocery store run because, chances are, she's already got some. It's also just nice to know I'm not the only one in the house. I've never been too nervous about sleeping here by myself, but it's definitely not my favorite thing to do. Plus, these first few months of the deployment are the hardest. I'm getting used to my husband being gone and dealing with a lot of emotions that come with it. It's sad and it's lonely and it can be awfully boring. But with someone else here to talk to and keep me busy? It's made the time fly by. And for that, I will be forever grateful.

Even still, just for the record (and because my husband is probably thinking he and his "early bedtime, let's watch more Syfy, stop making all these desserts, and of course that dress looks good on you" self will no longer be welcomed back)? I AM COUNTING DOWN THE DAYS UNTIL HIS RETURN.

Hall and Oates couldn't have said it any better:

"Because your kiss is on my list of the best things in life."

(And now you're going to have that song stuck in your head all.night.long.)

(You're welcome.)