As some (maybe most?) of you know, my husband has been gone for training a whole lot lately. His unit is getting prepared for probably--though also possibly not--deploying to Afghanistan for a year--though maybe 9 months, or possibly 15 months--sometime in October--though it was originally November, but it could be September, or maybe November, but probably October. Oh, I'm sorry, did that confuse you? No, no, it's okay. That's the army. haha
Anyway, I'm not here to rant about the uncertainty of army life. Back to my original point: Russ has been gone for training a lot lately, and will be gone another significant amount of time coming up.
Now, in the grand scheme of things, I know that a few weeks without each here and there is not that big a deal. We've got years and years to be together--and, as we've said, we'll spend every minute together someday, and be completely annoyed with one another, but absolutely happy despite it--so why should such (comparatively) little time apart be so bad?
I know this. I know I have to suck it up and it'll all be fine in the end. And I know that we're going to have a longer, less certain length of time apart. But it's hard, guys.
It's hard going from spending, at the very least, every night together, and every weekend on the couch, cuddled up, watching our shows or some movie, to sitting alone on that same couch watching Teen Mom or HGTV. Knowing that he won't be coming home tonight, that one side of the bed will be cold.
It's hard. And I won't lie, I've been having a harder time of it this time around. If you can't tell. haha (I promise, I'm not as mopey and depressing as I sound right now--I just wanted to get this out for you and for myself.)
Anyway, getting to the whole point of this post: I always knew that I was a strong person--not so much physically, but emotionally. For whatever reason, I just knew that I could handle things well, and that I would be strong.
But I used to think that strength meant holding those difficult feelings inside, pretending they didn't exist and making sure everyone knew you were totally fine with everything. Pretending even to yourself that you were completely fine. I used to hold it all in, and cry silently to myself when I knew no one would hear me and know that I do cry. (And I'm not talking about crying because someone died in a movie or because my dance teacher told me to fix something--because anyone who's been around me for minor things like that knows I'm totally a crier for those things, and I even cry when I see other people cry. I'm one of those people. haha) I'm talking about loneliness or frustration or hopelessness or just utter sadness--those were the things I hid from people. I hid those things from myself. I tried to keep myself from even feeling those emotions.
And I told myself that was strength--not letting people see you hurt. Not letting myself hurt. Just pretending I didn't have those feelings, because I was the strong one--the one people could turn to for everything.
But being with Russell has let me open myself to those harsher emotions. Slowly, I've had to let go of that "strength" and just admit that I am human. If I wanted to let love through--and man, do I love love--I had to let the other big emotions through. I've finally allowed myself to unload everything from my mind, admitting I feel it, and even to share it with someone else. Letting someone else take the load and tell me it'll all be okay.
And I think that's real emotional strength--admitting you hurt or are sad or lonely, and pushing through it instead of ignoring it. It's probably why they say, "admitting you have a problem is the first step to resolving it," or however it goes. Because when you're ignoring that you're sad, it's hard to get over that sadness. You're not really being "strong;" you're pretending that you're strong.
I'm sad. It's true. I miss my husband, and I wish he could be home with me. And I've been sad lately, but I feel so much better for being able to admit it. It doesn't mean that now I just complain about the things that make me sad, or cry any time Russell texts me. It means that I feel the sadness, and I understand it, and I accept it, and I can push past it.
And now when I hear Russell tell me I'm strong or how glad he is that he can depend on my strength, I can actually appreciate the word, and admit that I am a strong person now. That I can handle all the stresses of being an army wife.
And, of course, it doesn't hurt that I'm madly, madly in love with my husband. I cannot stress enough how easy it makes things to know that there is nothing to question about our relationship. I actually was telling Russ tonight, and I quote, "There's nothing I'm more sure of in this world [than our love], and nothing I ever have been so sure of." Don't call me cheesy. haha I know it is, but it's completely the truth. There's just something so easy about it, and knowing there's one less thing in this world I need to worry about is so freeing.
Handling the stress and sadness of being away from each other becomes a breeze. Because instead of worrying about the toll the absence will take on our relationship, we're simply concerned with how much longer we have until we're back in each others' arms. It's...well...It's not wonderful, because I'd rather not have to be away...But, it's our life. And once we get through these trying times, we have a whole lifetime ahead of us to be together every day of every week. Or at least most of them. :]
Sorry you suffered through so much babble! Have a nice picture of Russ and me after the Kentucky Derby!
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