I wrote at the beginning of deployment about how the worst part of deployment is the unknown. Another thing that ranks up there with the unknown, and correlates very closely with it, is the emotional roller coaster we're riding on. In the face of a situation that causes one to be emotionally vulnerable, we tend to put up walls to protect our hearts. That is true for many stories, but I'm finding it is especially true among military spouses. The mantra is, "Hope for the best, plan for the worst." It's an awkward juggling act trying to hold onto hope without getting your hopes up. In our particular situation, we've had a lot of unique ups and downs. We were told our men were coming home months early and then it was back to the original 12 month plan. We were told my husband didn't have enough days saved up for R&R leave, and then told the opposite. It's just the nature of the beast.
The most recent word is that my husband will get R&R and will be home some time soon-ish (there's always an -ish). I have been frantic ever since that news came to me. Frantic, I tell you. As my husband was telling me he'd be getting leave soon(ish), I was pacing the floor yelling at my computer, "This better be real! Don't mess with me!" I then burst into tears. Ugly, frantic tears. My husband asked if I was getting excited and I had to admit that I was skeptical that it wouldn't really happen. I'm still skeptical. The walls I've put up and the brave face I've put on are stubborn. They took time to build and they aren't coming down easily.
I tend to have inappropriate emotional reactions in general (I'm the girl with the giggle fits at a funeral), so needless to say, I've become a complete nutcase. I was ranting and raving to John about "What if I burn dinner?! What if I'm no good in bed?!" (hey, use it or lose it, right?) and literally drove myself to tears. I was staining my furniture and sobbing. Sobbing about dinner and sex with no make up on, wearing nasty sweats, and trying to remember the last time I showered. (I'm so attractive.) I'm so glad he wasn't here to actually see it, but I still think it freaked my man out. I finally realized that maybe if I'd been like everyone else and had a good cry every now and then, the thought of burning dinner wouldn't bring me to those dreadful frantic tears.
After that realization, I've forced myself to cry a little bit in the hopes that I won't absolutely lose my mind when I see John. (Doubtful, but I hear crying is good for getting dust out of the eyes and after sanding my furniture INSIDE my apartment, I can probably use a good flush.) Part of this "get it all out now" therapy is looking at photos from military homecomings and visualizing myself running into John's arms. I've heard therapists use visualizations so I thought I'd give it a try. Instead of crying though, it makes my heart all aflutter to see images of those infamous white buses and pretty ladies buried in camo chests. It also makes me start singing Little Mermaid songs, "When's it my turn..." But I digress. So maybe my emotions won't ever get with the program. Maybe I'll still be a bawling nutcase at the airport. But one thing I know: Even through my walls and inappropriate emotions, just the thought of being with my love, my best friend, and my soldier makes my heart do funny things. And that's one of the benefits of being a military spouse. It feels like my wedding day all over again. Oh please let that day come soon!
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