my REAL Valentine's gift(s):

I've been meaning to write about Valentine's Day.  The last post featured a little self indulgence, but the real surprise was these gorgeous roses that came on Friday.  He wanted me to get them a day early so I'd have them all day on Saturday and to maintain the element of surprise.  Saturday I got to talk to him for ALMOST AN HOUR!  It was the best 47 minutes in the last two months because it felt like we got to be ourselves.  An even bigger surprise was his nonchalance regarding the ring info I sent. I was absolutely certain that he would 1) panic and 2) never, never bring it up.  He did.  A reenactment is as follows - 

The SS: "I got the latest package - with a sack of potatoes and the jewelry quote."

Me:  "...I'm sorry, what?"

The SS: "I got the jewelry quote.  I thought that kind of thing was supposed to be a surprise."

Me:  "...I'm sorry, what?"

The SS:  "That stuff doesn't freak me out anymore."

Me:  "Oh...yeah...nobigdeal..."

It was one of those moments when the tables suddenly turned, I panicked having been caught completely off guard and I really didn't think that this was an appropriate time for shrieking-with-overwhelming-joy into the phone.  That we'll save for something more official with sparkly deal-sealers and whatnot.  It was a GOOD day!

Then I went shopping.  My way-too-expensive jeans will be ready at the tailor tomorrow.

If this were easy, everyone would be doing it.

"...if there's one thing I learned, it's that when our servicemen and women go to war, their families go with them. I saw how they take care of each other, heard how they fill in whenever the system fails and discovered that the trials they faced always were matched by the hope they shared that better days are still ahead." - Michelle Obama

Thank you for being strong enough to hold me up, live your dreams, and keep us safe all at the same time.  My flowers are beautiful and this morning's brief call made my birthday wonderful!  I hope the deluge of care packages adequately convey how much I love you and how proud I am to be waiting for you to come home.  I'd choose this life again and again and again to spend it with you.  See you in dreams tonight - let's meet somewhere warm!

Relief

My title photo seems quite out of place since our serious Winter broke today after a week.  While I appreciate the season and I like the crispness, the clean sensation of cold air, and our occasional snow, I was kind of glad to hear the birds chirping and to feel a warm preview of Spring.  Also, the sooner Winter subsides, the sooner he'll be home.

I've made it almost two weeks.  I'd be lying if I didn't own up to some pretty wretched days, some horrifying moods, and supplements to help me sleep.  And honestly there was at least one full day I wasn't sure I could do this.  My dad always tells me that the darkest hour is before daybreak and here it's certainly applicable.  There is a full range of uncontrollable emotions that go hand in hand with sending the man who holds your heart off to war.  The one I'm most ashamed of is that particular episode of anger.  Anger that he's gone, that he left me, anger at the universe for fating me to this position, anger at myself for blaming him.  It isn't like that and I know it.  This isn't something he did to me, however the knowing better only amplifies inevitable feelings of guilt.  The Staff Sergeant is a good man, the best, and I know how very lucky I am to so proudly stand by him (most of the time).  Then daybreak--and I awoke a new woman, the fever had gone and I felt like myself again.  

No one ever says that this life is full of ease and rose gardens, but somehow abandoning it is impossible.  I've hurled myself into a care packaging oblivion.  Every time I feel like crying I start planning the next one.  I've gotten back into school and am getting ready to start a new job.  All of that and I'm slowly chipping this new house into some semblance of order.  Tonight I hung my closet bar for all of the clothes I have that wouldn't fit into the tiny crevices this house deemed closet space.  I was so motivated by that small victory that I sorted the storage room and put together my new desk chair.  Now I'm sitting for the first time at my study space and not a moment too soon.  A magenta glow falls over the old tin table top I'm using as my work surface.  I have a victory cocktail to the right of my laptop and soon I'll go fish out a good photo of my courageous soldier to put in the corner. 

Moments like this let me peek from beneath the layers of Overwhelming just long enough to see the light.  I can do this thing that challenges me, this living on my own, this new town and old house of Murphy's law.  I can wait, be patient, be okay while he's away because he's doing the same thing for me.  

::sigh::

Outside it rains and I have sad eyes, or maybe tired. Perhaps it's just a rainy mood inspired by gray clouds. I'm heavy, my eyes are anyway, and the music wafts lazily over and through and below the murmur of the others. I know the voice of this singer but can't retrieve his name from the tip of my tongue. His identity doesn't much matter, and this song fits oddly with the melancholy nature of the late afternoon shower. Peppermint tea rolls steam from its surface before me and dribbles carelessly down one side - syphoned by the the steeping bag.

The aroma of coffee permeates the air. [and peppermint too, of course.]

I have no idea what has gotten beneath my skin, nonetheless this unnamed agitation is bothersome. Maybe it is the rain, and the sad slush of tires through puddles on the asphalt. Maybe it's the Hornby novel I read, likening marriage to the impulse to drink bleach. Maybe it's [this] or [that]...maybe, maybe, maybe. Maybe it's the woeful plight of voices around me, those who might actually be planning to toast the Universe with a brimming pour of Clorox.

Could the goal really be unachievable...?

"Our soulmate is someone who shares our deepest longings, our sense of direction..."

"...When we're two balloons, and together our direction is up, chances are we've found the right person." - Richard Bach

When I awoke at 7:41am, my body's current and strangely consistant waking hour, I had a message waiting patiently for me on my computer - an explanation of an answer I had requested. Despite it's trivial role in the many words, "soulmates" stuck out. I thought for the half hour I allowed for getting ready, and the 10 minute drive to work, and even since arriving at my office, "Is there such a thing?"

I surely thought that in high school, Matt was mine, until I realized he wasn't. And that was because I was certain that it was The Musician, until that didn't work out as planned. When I met The Virginian, I knew I would never date again...you all know the rest of that story - not soulmates.

Even though at some point in any of the above mentioned relationships I would have sworn that I had found my end-all, I would have been wrong - SO wrong (sorry, gentlemen!). So how does one know - REALLY know when you have found your "soulmate"? I've heard it before "I just knew"...no, no, no...I want something more concrete than that. And I'm aware that I desire a bit much when it comes to certainty...a pre-marital counselor told me once that what I was looking for, as far as absolution, would never exist because every relationship - at best - is a gamble. My stomach knots when I think about the impossibility of there being a definitive answer in the beginning! Yet, I guess it makes it safe to assume that I haven't made any mistakes in my decisions thus far to end any previous relationship.

I'd like to think that the clouds might part and the booming voice of God will announce the conclusion of my search, or that Mr. Right will come, having been sent by the stars with delivery confirmation - item description, "soulmate". I've never really considered myself to be a person skeptical of the abstract, but it becomes more apparent each day that I have a high value for the definite. So maybe it was crazy to invest five years in a relationship with a year and half of it long distance, and crazier still to move to the East Coast, and sticking with trend, to be driving to North Carolina next week to see someone I haven't been face-to-face with in 10 months...but my Mom commends me because I move on opportunities no matter how outlandish they seem on paper. And while I've developed a laughable reputation for following my heart, I do explore opportunites and I find the answer to the "what if" questions - eventually.

Coming back to the original question of whether or not there is a partner destined for each one of us who we can later call our "soulmate," I supposed I do hold out hope that we are each wandering around until we cross paths with "the one". I don't know that he will meet my every expectation, but the core of him will hopefully fit to mine without wiggle room. And maybe when I'm wrinkled and gray I'll have the privilege of telling my posterity with confidence that, "I just knew - definitely."

...if I'm wrong, I've still got the "cat lady" back-up...and many, many degrees to be earned :)