So we’ve got this deployment thing down. We’ve had several years of practice of him being over there and me being here, and all that comes with both. We’re used to not being able to talk regularly, not being able to email regularly, and not being able to see one another. Whatever. So now that we’re doing this in the civilian world, things are easier. Deployments are shorter, he has a phone to use when he is able to call, and he’s no longer even remotely near the “action.” Life is good. So we’re separated for a little while, no big deal. No. Big. Deal.
OK, still a big deal.
B’s my person. He’s the one I go to when my irritable nature becomes apparent and I can no longer be nice to those around me. He calms my nerves, sets me right again, and then sends me back out into the world with a smile on my face. And though I’m not sure I believe it most times, he swears I do the very same for him. So what happens when your person isn’t around to do that? You might on occasion just turn horrible.
I turned horrible this week. I did not monitor my speech. I grew tired and cranky and I lashed out. I gave up by the end of it and shut the door to my office and cried in defeat. I threw up my hands, realizing there were a million things I would have fixed about myself, but feeling as though I didn’t have the strength to make them happen.
What’s worse, this happened to be one of those weeks when my reserve of patience ran out just as his did too, so we collided. And then we both broke down.
Now I’m exhausted and vowing that next week will be better.
And I already know that it will. Not only will I be one week closer to seeing my husband again, but it will be new and fresh and full of opportunities for me to redeem myself for all the screwups of this week.
Chin up. One day, one week, one month at a time, that’s the only way to get through this. That’s how deployments work.
I’ll be better tomorrow, I promise.