It ain't easy on this love affair.

Well, he's gone. It's almost like he was never even here. The bed is suddenly much bigger. There's only one towel hanging in the bathroom. The DVR is empty of all the "silly reality crap" I wasn't allowed to watch when he was home. The leftover pizza from yesterday is still in the fridge. (Because if he was still here, the pizza would not be.) I waited and waited (and waited!) for him to come home and he finally did. (Yes, five days late, but better late than...you know.) And now he's gone. Just like that.

A lot of friends have asked me how I'm doing and it was a hard question to answer. I mean, I'm sad definitely. My husband was with me at.all.times for two weeks straight. We didn't go anywhere without the other. That was the most time we had spent together in almost eight months. It was wonderful. Awesome. Fantastic. Not a fight to be had! (Except when he wouldn't pick up his multiple piles of...stuff...sitting around the house. In the living room. Up the stairs. In the bedroom. In the bathroom. When asked to clean up said piles, the phrase "I've been at WAR!" was mentioned more than once. Anyone have a comeback for that? Yeah. Me either.) But now that he's gone? It feels normal. Like, this is the way my life is supposed to be. How sad is that? I'm a wife and I need a husband. Yet, my husband isn't here and that seems like the status quo.

So I'm fine and sad and feeling a little lost and yet feeling right back on track. If I was cool (and I use that term with a wee bit of sarcasm) enough, I'd do a little Twitter hashtag right now. Maybe #marinewifeproblems. Or #aloneagainnaturally. On the bright side, he'll be home soon. And for good this time. (Or as "for good" as it can be when you're in the military.) I'm excited for him to come home and be in this marriage with me. Being a Single Wife hasn't been easy, but it has made me appreciate my husband more than ever. The time we get to spend together is so very precious that I just want to revel in the happy. (...even when he leaves a pile of dirty clothes beside the laundry basket.)

You SO get me, Steve Perry.

Reunited and it feels so good.



He's home!

And life is grand.

More to come...

The waiting is the hardest part.

I broke one of the commandments of being a Marine Wife: Thou shalt not depend on any given date or time of arrival. *sigh* But I did. I depended. Rookie mistake. (Although, this wife isn't so much a 'rookie' anymore. Call it a relapse.) I just got so excited. I requested the two weeks off from work, cleaned the house from top to bottom, spent more money than reasonable at the grocery store, and promised Mateo his daddy was coming home soon. (Thankfully, he's not a little kid who can actually understand the words that are coming out of my mouth...) I was hoping the husband would be home for his R&R on Sunday night. Then it was Monday. Then Tuesday...and now it's sometime at the end of the week. Maybe. I mean, really? It could be the end of next week at the rate we're going. It's the weather. It's mechanical issues. It's idon'treallycarewhatitisbutit'skeepingmefrommyhusband. I now have to cancel dinner with friends and a meeting with the tax man. I'm a little more upset about the former than the latter. On the bright side, our lovely cabin in the wilderness isn't booked until next week so he should be home in plenty of time for that. (Maybe. Probably. Please, God, please.)

A hot tub on the porch overlooking a rocky stream?

YES.

  

I'm trying not to mope too much. Or be too depressed. Or lay on my couch and cry all over my kitty because I'm just.so.disappointed. At least he's still coming home, right? My mother-in-law told me tonight that my husband's dad had an R&R canceled entirely. As in, not coming home AT ALL. She sobbed in the parking lot. I wanted to sob just hearing that story. So, for now, I'm counting my lucky stars (correction: I'm thanking God!) that he's still coming home and I won't have to wait an entire year before I see my husband. The fridge is still full of Diet Mountain Dew. The pantry is stocked with goldfish crackers. I still haven't bitten my nails. (It's been three weeks. That's huge. Really. And it was a surprise so...surprise!) I just have to get through another few days without him. And, hey, I've already gone six months and three weeks. How hard can it be?

Just missing our third.