Big Girls Don't Cry

The day came and went, and now he's gone.

As I sat in the car and watched him roll his bags into the terminal I found myself dry eyed.  I felt none of the things you're supposed to feel as you're watching your husband walk away, knowing it will be months before you'll see him again.  I felt numb.

When we'd said our goodbye's at the curb the first thing he said was, "I love you." I don't think he knows how much that meant to me, because I'm always the one to say it first.  It's not that I love him more or he loves me less, it's just how we are.  His deviation from protocol told me how much he didn't want to leave without him having to say it.  It was probably the best going away present he could have given me.

And still, I didn't cry.

I drove from the airport to work.  I needed to feel productive, and it was nice to get back to "the usual" again after having been out for a week.  It helped take my mind off of the empty house that would be waiting for me when I got home that night.  I had plans to meet up with some girlfriends at the street fair in Downtown that night after work for dinner, which turned out to be a lot of fun.  If there's anyone who could understand how I felt it was military wives, so hanging out with them right after D left was perfect.  By the time I got home I was exhausted, both mentally and physically.  I had no trouble falling asleep.

And yet, staying asleep seemed to be an issue.

I kept waking up, very aware that I was alone in our room.  In our house.  I'd never spent the night alone in the house since we moved so it was particularly strange.  It felt entirely too empty and quiet without him there, without the rhythm of his breathing to lull me to sleep.  I checked the clock every time I woke up.  Trying to see if it was close to when D was supposed to arrive in Okinawa.  He'd told me he'd call when he got there, and I couldn't help but wonder if that's what was preventing me from sleeping through the night.

It was my alarm this morning that signaled the end to that vicious cycle.  As much as I didn't want to get up I was tired of sleeping in limbo.  It was 6:15am and I still hadn't heard from him.  I put on my glasses and my robe, and just in case I slipped my phone in my robe pocket.  I went downstairs and the cat immediately ran to the foot of the stairs to greet me.  I can always count on him to make me feel loved.  As we had our morning 'love fest' my phone started ringing, and I couldn't help but smile.  I knew it was him without even having to look at it.

He sounded good considering he'd spent a large amount of time on a plane and was now 16 hours ahead from where he'd been less than 24 hours ago.  He'd made it safe and sound and was only one bag short from when he'd left, but other than that everything was fine.  He was exhausted (understandably) so the conversation was short, but it was so good to hear his voice. He told me to "have fun at work" and I told him, "I'll try".

At least his sense of humor didn't get misplaced with his luggage.  :P