By this point of our lives, I’m sure we’ve all had someone whom we’ve missed dearly, who has either gone away for a period of time, or returned home and completed their journey here on earth.
However, I am here to address the former — thankfully, as it has to do with the man in my life whom I love with all of my heart.
Now, I cannot promise you that a few tears may or may not spill upon my keyboard as I type this, but I can promise that, if you are or have experienced a loss of some sort, you are not alone.
Should you have stumbled upon our story thus far, you may have come to find that Cole’s occupation is of that within the USN or the United States Navy. He’s been enlisted for about 5 years now as an IT. So, needless to say, he’s my go-to whenever I need assistance with the advanced tech savvy things.
Around the time of which we met, I knew that eventually during his naval career, Cole would be deploying. And though priorly, having been informed that it wouldn’t be until early 2016, the date was suddenly changed in early July of this year.
Upon finding out the news, Cole waited until we could both sit down that day to break the news.
They changed the date of my deployment,” he said softly.
“It could be as early as next month.”
He paused and momentarily squeezed my hand, giving me a sorrowful, yet (somehow) supportive smile.
I remember biting down on my lip before responding.
“I knew it…” I sighed, as my memory fluttered back to the eerie text message he sent earlier, saying that he had something important to discuss when we both got home.
I was both devasted and heartbroken, crying in his arms while trying to compute and calculate the amount of time — weeks and days we had left to spend with each other.
The time that we did have flew by. And with each passing day, I grew more and more anxious. Things between him and I felt a little more tense and strained as we were both trying to remember to ‘live in the moment,’ and ‘count our blessings.’ It seemed like the more we tried focusing on all the good, the worse things got. In an attempt to pretend that everything was fine, we failed to communicate our true emotions to one another because we felt we owed it to each other to be “supportive” and “strong.” But something we both soon came to understand was that there is truly strength and support in being vulnerable to one another, and letting the other know when you aren’t okay.
Since the day I found out he was leaving, I felt like I was losing my best friend to the possibility of war/combat, and he felt like he was leaving the woman he took so much pride in helping to care for, along with his three pups and the home he loved.
After we were both able to come to terms with how much it was really going to suck being apart, it made life a little easier — well, as far as facing reality was concerned.
Watching Cole get onto the bus which would be taking him to the plane that Wednesday afternoon of September 2nd, was both painful and reliving. Painful because he was leaving, and reliving because.. well, I could begin to countdown the days until he would be back home.
And though I’m pretty sure that I’ll eventually have to give up sleeping with all of the lights on in my room when nighttime comes, and somehow get used to there being more room in the bed, I’m praying that I am able to survive this time away from him, properly — if there is a way to do that. It won’t be as graceful as I’ll be pretending it is, but I’ll be here, hanging on and counting the days away; keeping as busy as I can.
I’d also like to note that I am extremely grateful to have a mother who is willing to drop everything in order to come and stay with me for the duration of his deployment, as well as a little brother who will be visiting and helping care of Dude, Skye and MJ.
As for you, the person reading this, I simply thank you, honestly, for reading.
It is truly people like yourself who make writing/sharing my stories on the blog, so worthwhile.
I’ll be sure to keep you in the loop of how things are on my end.
Until then, be blessed and thank you.