Larry I Miss You. . .

Wednesday, April 19th 2017

Aright I can’t help it I have to say this. I miss him. That’s right I’m acknowledging the book elephant in my heart. I miss him. I really really do miss him. I try my hardest to pretend that any minute he’s going to walk into our home, carrying that dorky grin that slowly flashes his dimples one by one, but that day seems so far away. I know that I’m almost at the finish line. I know it, my heart knows it, my body knows it yet I feel like I’m going to will myself into insanity if this deployment doesn’t end sooner. I feel it in my bones and I’ve felt it for a very long time. I am over this deployment. I am over explaining to our extremely determined toddler that her father in fact did not leave her, he simple went to work. He went to work far away, to another continent where lions live. I’m so tried.

I never though being away from him this long that my entire body would surrender itself to the loneliness of my heart. I just can’t take it anymore. I find myself trying my hardest not to go to bed. Willing myself to stay up until the medication pulls me to sleep. No matter how you feel about anxiety medication the side effects of drowsiness never looked so much like a halo of mercy during these long nights.

I hate it going to bed, but I also hate waking up. Somewhere between the lines of slumber and awareness, I feel that we are connected. I feel that we are wishing our souls to stay connected even though we are more than thousands of miles apart. I know logically we aren’t even sleeping at the same time since he’s more than seven hours ahead of us, yet I feel in my spirit that whatever palace the world of dreams has created for lonely lovers, we are visiting the same place. There are times where I feel that we are dreaming the same dream, expect by the time I have fallen asleep he’s awaking up. I know this sounds extremely melodramatic but it’s what I feel. I feel like even my dreams are safe place for us to reunite anymore. I feel it. I said earlier that I hate going to sleep yet I also hate waking up. I said that because even in my dreams I feel so very close to him. I can place my hand on the Bible with utter confidences and swear that I can hear my husband breathing.

There are times I feel like there truly is a palace for lovers who love from a long distance. That perhaps this palace is a place where the individuals can only live in the moment, leaving their broken hearts and loneliness in the cruel world of reality. There are times I can feel my dream self laying right next to Larry. Listening to him unforgivable snoring, without one hint of my usual displeasure of being woken up by a musical mouth concert. There are times where I can feel his skin touching mine, nothing sexual, just the rough edges of his fingers brushing my hand. Once upon a time we bought hand the same hands, both covered in pen ink and art supplies. Both of our hands smelling of hand sanitizer as we both attempt to clear away the visible evidences of late night of final project procrastination. Now our hands could not be any further from each other, physically and spiritual. His hands are calloused, no amount of manicures can removal all the evidences of hard work from them. They are no longer the hands of the 19 year old boy who pointed an excusatory finger at his roommate for flirting with his suddenly declared girlfriend. Nope, their the hands of a father, a husband, a hard worker, a professional tickle spot finder, and more important a man that I’m very proud to call my husband. Honestly their the type of fist you would never seen thrown in the mist of anger, they are the type of fist that would greet you for an overly complicated greeting that you hope you’re doing right. They are the hands that rubbed my back while my body demonstrated how hopefully menstrual cramps can be, while I sang face down into my porcelain microphone. Their the type of hands that  could cause so much pain yet he’s always giving a helping hand to those he greatly ares about, plus those who’ve only meet him for a brief moment. This is why I dream of  a place where we can finally lay side by side with each other. Even in my dreams, I know that moment will not last for long since the time differences between us for even the gates of unconsciousness could obscured the logical portion of my mind yet I can’t help but smile when for a brief moment in my medicated sleep, I can feel my soulmate sleeping beside me.

I tried my hardest to pretend that everything perfectly find. Attempting to blog as if this separation hasn’t began the slow decay of my heart with each elongated second. I miss him. I’m not going to apologize for it. I’m not going to ignore it. I’m acknowledging it. I miss my husband very much. I miss him so much that reading seems to be a difficult challenge within itself. I miss my husband. My daughter misses her “Papa”, and I desperately miss my best friend.

If my best friend were here, we would be geeking out about the upcoming DVD release of Disney Beauty and the Beast Live Action movie. If my best friend were here we would have probably seen that movie three times in theaters, in the same week. If my best friend were here, he would sing all the parts that Lefou would sing. If my best friend were here, I would never have to explain any of my RuPaul’s Drag Race comments, nor would the phrase “ Jesus is a Biscuit” need any explanation. If my best friend were here, he would see that his daughter is more like him than he realizes, because who else would shout to the world how AWESOME she is every time she uses the potty like a big kind. If my best friend were here, he would laugh at how I’ve managed to slip alone of Disney’s Moana “You’re Welcome” into everyday conversation. If my best friend were here, I would finally have someone to talk to you about Sarah J. Maas’s newest book release. If my best friend were here I would be stressing out about us going to Romantic Times Atlanta, in hopes that no one assumes his military workout is in fact the workout of a book model. If my best friend were here, we won’t go to RT Atlanta, instead we would visit Seattle and catch Seattle’s Greatest Drag Queen Jinx at her night club. There are so many things I wish could have been fulfilled if Larry was here, yet he’s not. I’m not mad that he’s working, because who could never get angry at someone for serving their country. I’m just so very tired. I want this to be over, very quickly. I just want to hold him in my arms, while baring my teeth to anyone who attempts to take him away from me again.

The separation from Larry has made my heart  extremely tired, but now that the time is nearing, I feel my loneliness transform itself into a shewolf. This is extremely cliche but I can honestly relate to that song Evermore from Beauty and the Beast Live Action, I know exactly what Beast was singing about. Since Larry has left for this deployment I feel almost haunted with the hope that he’s standing right behind me. There are times when my down stairs neighbor slams the door so hard, that I jump out of my skin thinking that it’s Larry coming home. He always slammed the door to hard when he closed the front door. I would tease him about it, telling him how much of the door is left on the hinges. Now I’ve learnt the differences between the vibration of the down stairs door slamming versus misplaced hopefulness. That is why, the moment my husband is safely returned to America, I dare any branch of government to step in my path. The moment I see him he’s mine. I’m going to find my favorite spot to rest my head on his body, wrap my arms around him. Knowing once and for all that this horrible yet sudden emergency deployment is finally over and cry. I’m going to cry for all the tears that I had to send silently in my pillow while our daughter slept. I’m going to cry for all the tears he shed when he had to leave us. I’m going to cry for all the wives, husbands, sisters, and brothers who never got the chance to hold their love once in their arms, and I’m going to cry for all those who never saw another day as they continue to live in a world of the darkness of death. I’m going to cry for all the times Zoe cried for her Papa to come home. Finally I’m just going to cry with relief that this chapter in my life has finally come to an end. Oh Happy Days, I hope that day comes by so very soon.

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