Wearing a shirt, clinging to my soldier.

Archive for November, 2010

I got soul, but I’m not a soldier…

Its hard for me because I’m in high school. I’ve been with him for five months, known him over a year. He is the first abuse free relationship I have ever had. He doesn’t have what I call typical soldier syndrome meaning he doesn’t want to come home to a wife or family but his girlfriend. This causes a lot of problems between us. Although my previous relationship was two years long and extremely abusive, I was engaged and close to my dream of being a wife. That was all that mattered to me. And in that two years I was brainwashed into thinking that no one else will ever love me or marry me, and theres nothing that I can do about that. There a million reasons why he’s putting off engagement but his biggest reason is he doesn’t want a war widow. And that really hurts me. Its like why would you do that, when his death would hurt all the same? So… we’ve kinda been fighting about that. He’s on call right now (National Guard, they mini deploy for bad weather) and last night he thought I accused him of not loving me… I heard many of men cry… But for once, my heart broke too. I feel like possibly the worst girlfriend on the face of this earth and my stupid past keeps whispering that maybe if I was this or that or did this or that he’d feel more of a pull to change my title….

The hardest part of our relationship is that. On drill weekends, I stay at his apartment and clean it all the way up. Feed his cat. Change the litter box. Assume the role of wife and exercise it nicely. He comes home to a clean apartment and dinner in the fridge for him to heat up. I try to stay that night but normally am not allowed. The one time I did… Well… I was late to school the next day for all the right reasons.

I keep watching everything around me and I do get upset, I wish he knew how much. Its like I can’t even listen to a goddamn Zales commercial. Had a dream last night that it was the day back from deployment….


I’m standing there, surrounded by people who are holding welcome signs and keep talking. The higher ups give their speeches and I scan the rows and rows of ACU for a certain Scott. He blends in next to Fontes and Jackson. Fontes is whispering something, probably how much he can’t wait to eat his wifes pussy again and Jackson’s nodding and Matt seems to just groan. I bite my lip; I’m the only one who made it here today. The Birdwells thought that I needed him most. I stand alone. I clutch no sign and everything important is buckled down in the MWIT pants that Shiloh and I bought. When he’s dismissed I run. Flying straight towards him as he looks around for a giant crowd of Birdwells. My arms wrap around him and I smile, whispering a million I love you’s. Our first kiss stops my heart for just a moment and I thank heavens he’s ok. On the car ride home he turns on my mp3 and we listen to “Teenage Dream”. His gear drops off at his home and we commence welcome home sex.


Now the problem with that is the military has something called post deployment. He’d spend two months sitting around being evaluated and taught how to merge back in with life which dramatically reduces the rate at which soldiers get PTSD. It also makes it easier on the soldier. So…. That means for two months he’s home but he’s not really home.

Now the current plan is this:

Theres a floating deployment date that we have an idea of when it is but no one is sure.

I cannot move in until I need to for college or after deployment. I will have his key during deployment meaning I have permission to slowly move in.

We cannot get engaged until after I move in.

We cannot get married until I have everything planned.


We will be married by or on June 29th, 2013.

I cannot be engaged or married while he is deployed.




Honestly, I have a loose idea of what I want. Cocktail dress in ivory (not white. I’m not a virgin.) with plum and emerald accents. Candles lighting certain areas of the ceremony and reception sites. All flowers made from pages of books, painted emerald or plum, or left alone. Outdoor ceremony if weather permits and then reception someplace with a good dance floor and white Christmas lights intertwined with vines and ivy. Not really a serious feel but definitely a romantic feel. Sandstorm from DDR would play once for Matt’s comfort.


I spend a majority of my life fantasizing about this future I hold close to my heart. And I will keep holding it close, cause this is all that keeps me from running, 500 miles per hour off the deep end.


Much love from the very stressed out soldier’s girlfriend and Military Wife In Training,


The “Patient” Line is Killing Me.

I’m waiting for everything now a days. I’m waiting for Grandma to either be perfectly ok or to just die. I’m sick of thinking she’s making a 180 to health when I know she’s gonna drop off.

I hate walking into my fathers hospital room and being forced to stay for hours upon hours. I just wanna go in, say “Hi, I love you.” And leave, you know? It may not look like a hospital, or smell like a hospital but goddamn its a hospital and I can’t stand it.

I’m waiting for exec orders for the military to decide just what the fuck they wanna do with Matt. I mean, he is my entire world and this not knowing whether or not he’ll be in the crowd kills. His bags are packed at the armory. I know that for a fact. He is ready. He is an American Soldier. But what the hell am I?

I’m his support without a safe place to call home. I am steadying hand on an M16  M4 and the protection around his heart. I am ever waiting.

Makes you think, huh? That maybe the wives and the girlfriends feel the same. We will both be widows at heart when they return in that box, if they return at all.