I contemplated starting at day 1. Letting all of my raw emotions flow (because, let me tell yah, my emotions were definitely flowing). I didn't think that was right though, I thought that I should wait it out. I thought that I should see how things go and tell my story from a "future" point of view. So here I am, about to bear my soul to whoever feels like reading.
Day one was the hardest day. March 9, 2015. I remember falling asleep the day before. I was on the couch, it was 8PM and I had just laid Amity down. I was exhausted from going home that weekend, which I now regret doing. (There is so much I regret, we will get to that though..) I was newly pregnant and everything was exhausting me. We thought we had more time so Dakota didn't attempt to wake me up, he did whatever work related thing he needed to then slept on the other side of the couch. I woke up a few times that night for no apparent reason, once I contemplated going to cuddle with him on his side but I knew neither of us would be comfortable and I'd end up moving back anyway, so I didnt. I regret that. He left early that morning. He came back for a few hours and then went right back to work. Amity was awake and going full speed, as usual. I laid her down for her nap and very soon after I got the text message telling me when his flight was leaving. We thought he would leave Tuesday morning. We thought we would have time together as a family Monday night. We thought we would get to go to a nice, fancy dinner one last time.. We were wrong. His flight left at 7PM that night and he had to be at the airport at 6PM. I didn't believe him at first. I just kept saying "no, he's just lying. He's just messing with me." But I got no response after my initial "are you serious?" text, so I knew. Of course I cried, which I honestly didn't expect. Usually I cry over stupid things that don't actually matter and the things that do (my first child's first ultrasound, the first field training exercise where I was left alone with a newborn, any fight we ever got in, etc) get pushed aside and my tears are never shed for them. This time was different. It was finally setting in. It really was all happening too fast. He received his orders March 1, 2015 and he was flying out March 9, 2015. It was a horrible, cruel joke that the military was playing on us. We were so sure they were going to be deffered. Everyone else before him had gotten deferments, but we wouldn't be so lucky. I remember when he got home, I tried so hard not to cry in front of him. I tried so hard to be stronger because I didn't have it as bad. I wasn't missing out on two of my children's lives. I wasn't going to be away from every I knew for so long. I wasn't going to be alone, in a place where I know nothing, in a place that's so different. I tried but I didn't succeed and of course he consoled me the best he could. By then time was nothing. We had maybe 3 hours together. It was all so rushed and it felt rehearsed. We didn't take long enough to say goodbye because I had a toddler who just wanted to go home. We hugged for seconds. We had one kiss that was shorter than the hug. I didn't cry till I walked away but I had to wait in my car before I left because I couldn't see a thing. I stopped myself before i got home because I knew Amity would pick up on my feelings. I laid her down a few hours later, laid back on the couch, and cried myself to sleep while regretting everything thing that had or hadn't been said or done in the past 24 hours.
The first two days were the hardest but then I got over it. Kind of. It was nice to be alone with Amity so I could be upset when I wanted and happy when I wanted and not have someone trying to console me or question why I wasn't crying. I avoided conversations because it was easier to not interact with people. I didn't want to think about it so I avoided it any time I could. I still do. It almost feels like an infinite amount of time will pass before I see him again and that's too much to handle, so I'd rather watch my baby run away with a smile on her face or cuddle up to me go watch a movie than dwell on how I'm feeling pretending to be a single parent for a while.
Moving back to Louisiana was hard. I almost didn't (and still don't) want to be here. I liked my life in Texas, with or without Dakota. I liked my life as a mom who always had her toddler with her and could raise her however she wished, could feed her whatever she felt was right, could do things without being judged by people who just don't understand. I'm here now though, best make the most of it. It's harder being here because I have no friends. In a military community it's very easy to connect with other moms who also stay at home. I know I have family here but it's just different. It's not what I've become accustomed to and I'm still unsure if I like it. I don't want to sound ungrateful, because that's the last thing I am. I just don't know that I prefer this life to the one I had.
Maybe I just want to be back with Dakota. Anywhere in the world, as long as he's there to help me raise our children together. Whatever it is, it's hard stomp it out and just be happy. It gets better with time though, at least that's what I keep saying.
Sometimes it hurts. Sometimes it's hard to breath and my chest gets cold and tight. Sometimes I just keep saying "I don't want to do this". But then that sometimes ends, and I get over it. I move on and focus on something, anything other than being away from the person I'm meant to be with, and it gets better.
