show's over

Ah!, the sweet relief of life returned to it's eccentric and unconventional Normal. I feel like I've trekked the earth, lived lifetimes upon lifetimes, over-driven my mental driver, and I've had it easy. I could explain the last four days from my perspective, but it would truly be unjust. You'll never meet another man comparable to my soldier. Never. And I'm not just being biased. To do the things that he does, to simply be capable of enduring his Army is plainly out of [my] reach.

Now subjects flow to me like rivers after rain - I could use my blank space to expound on an array of thoughts. Choice being one that comes to mind. I could choose the self aggrandizing road and boast of newfound strength, pride, and tenacity. But my heart is humbled tonight by him alone. I feel sad that most of you will never know him as more than a character of this blog, an anonymous Staff Sergeant in a vast sea of camouflage. You have no idea of the man that he is. You have no idea how much respect he commands, how much admiration he summons and reserve he carries. He is the epitome of greatness and I am gifted each day to stand beside him. To this praise, he would arm himself with a snarkish remark and tell me that he's glad he has me fooled, but every word is truth.

Come and stay with me.

There's a crackle in the distance. Something is moving, brewing, ready for birth. Love does things to you that you cannot anticipate and when they are in full force, arguing with their direction becomes futile. There is a pull westward then north, southbound and to the East. Each mile is a minute lived slower than others, each day lost together is simply lost. It is a challenge to recount moments passed as they have become mere shadows and echoes. Too many prequels have been archived and the threading of continuity has been removed. We are less and more. We are estranged but kindred, restless yet content. Footing is temporary, for the earth always shakes again.

Too long, too vacant, too far apart. It isn't only good things that eventually must end. Somewhere there is a white knight awaiting his damsel.

a little unnerving

Because Waiting Panic isn't potent enough...

As wars lengthen, toll on military families mounts

Soon and very soon

Sucking low and full into empty lungs, a breath is held. The first seconds are uneventful, novel even, before the warm burning in your core begins. The fire spreads, igniting concern that soon sets ablaze panic and desperation. Skin flushes then glows, and theoretically turns a plummy shade of purple. Following the climactic peak - air, a theatrical and exaggerated inhale preceding a return to natural rhythm.

Hurry up! [and wait]

Pensive, waiting, timing the captive lungful. Days never pass fast enough. Twenty-four hours double and triple themselves into grueling painstaking barriers. And I tell myself his jokes once more. And imagine the reunion, play my scripted Hollywood versions over and over and over. Even my mental cast is tired of running through the scenes.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Eyes shut tight to relive hungry, deliberate kisses. Reread the letters, each word artfully plucked from fathoms too deep to measure. Over and over and over... Try on the first-time-we-meet-again wide-leg jeans and floral halter. Try on the buttercup wedges for full effect. It doesn't matter that we're eons away from reunion. Try them on just one more time. 1200 calories, it's crunch time. Perfection. Shoot for the moon. Be stunning.

Holy blue-in-the-face!

Maybe he will...[not a chance, dreamer]. Walk five miles to imagine how he could but won't. Knowing that reality is the first to go before fantasy takes the driver's seat doesn't stop the imagination. What if he remembers me in some inflated form? What if that last letter said too much? What about meeting his mother? What about heart palpitations from self-induced anxiety? What about irrational fears? Fitful is the new Restful sleep.

a brief teaser

I promised substance, but I bounced around town unexpectedly after work and now it's late and all I can really think to say is that I'm sleepy. It was a surprise to sit down with co-workers after a shift and chat over drinks, as it was to meet my "second father" for pizza, and then a friend for a lesson in whiskey.

The days until reunion grow fewer and fewer, and after so long of nothing more than letters in my mailbox, it seems surreal to think that life might ever feel "normal" again. In a digestible amount of time I'll be able to look him the eye and hear his voice. It's like a dream to remember being close to him, all fantasy lit and magically hazy in my mind. But sooner than later it will be real, if only for a moment. While this chapter has been severely unlike any other, I've grown and have even seen the evidential proof.

More later, I swear. For now, I'm off to meet him in dreams.

...still she reigns

I've stolen away from the grip of retail obligations only long enough to announce my continuing existence. Readership has dwindled, my mind becoming limp with the absence of creative use, and I feel a little helpless in this mental drought. So I've sworn that tonight, after I've clocked out and gone home, had a glass of wine, and slipped into something a little more comfortable, I'll produce something. Anything more than this. Thank you for your continued support even when I haven't been much for giving back.