Looking Back: Boot Camp

So someone I know is starting their Marine Corps journey today.  The one I started four years ago (it's absolutely crazy that it will be 4 years in a few months and how much has changed).  It's weird though looking back on it now.. Everything I experienced and learned through the corps.  I keep thinking the whole "if I knew then what I knew now" nonsense.  I reached out to her this morning.  I remember that initial shock when they ripped you away from me.

At the time 3 months seemed like an eternity.  I'll never forget the day you were leaving.  It seemed to be never ending and I cried alllllll day as usual.  I remember they were late (big shocker MC.. I should have known then you were out to get me) so the day just drug on.  I remember sitting on the couch when they said he was there.  You came back in the house.. hugged me.. kissed me on my forehead and said I love you before walking out the door.  I stood there crying.  Just like that you were gone.  Actually, that was the first time I ever saw you cry.  It all happened so fast I didn't know what to do.  I took off out the door to my great grandparents two doors down and started hysterically crying.  It was such a shock that it finally happened.  Like the "and we're off" on our Marine Corps journey.  I kept thinking 4 years and it's over.  Well, I got the over I wanted too soon and not how I pictured it.

So, basically boot camp blows.  The one day (2 months in) I finally turned my phone on vibrate you called during my 8 am volleyball practice.  I still have that voice mail, "Chrissy, whatever you do do not call this number back I'll get kicked out of here. I shouldn't be calling you."  Right.  I should have called back :p

I remember sitting on the front porch.. patiently waiting for the mail and tackling the mailman to frantically dig through the pile looking for these:

 

I love those letters.  I read them from time to time.  Marine Corps lesson #1: You become an avid letter writer.  The first few weeks I remember saying, "Who writes letters?!  This isn't 1865!"  But low and behold those letters are some of my most valued possessions.  There was something about those letters that makes you fall a little more in love everyday.  I HATED Sunday because, well, there wasn't mail on Sunday.  I remember the first letter I got.. It was July 17th.  3 weeks later and I was getting my Senior pictures taken that day.  I was leaving my house.. saw the mail man.. and turned right back around to check the mailbox and there it was.  I read it over and over and over again.  I don't think I could have been happier.  I wrote a letter every single day.  It was like part of my routine to write a letter at night talking about my day. 

It's so tempting to just walk away during boot camp.  To be with someone else because it almost feels like your boyfriend fell off the face of the earth.  And of course the good ole drill instructors pounded it into their heads that every girl was back home cheating.  I don't know how many "please don't leave me" letters I got because they said it so much.  I think the DI's have a field day when they find out that someone has a girlfriend.  Lame.  Douche bags.  But that was lesson #2: Don't give up.  You have to be a fighter.  It's one of those "only the strong survive" kinda deals.  And lesson #3: Beware of the best friends.  I'll just leave it at that.

Lesson #4:  you're friends will tell you "they understand."  You just have to learn to tell them to eff off.  Don't be surprised when they complain about their boyfriends being gone for a weekend.  Because you know, 48 hours is such an eternity.  You learn to deal with the annoying complaints of your friends even though you want to punch them square in the face.  They try to understand, they really do.  However, unless they go through it, they never will.  It's just how it goes.  They will be there for you though.  To make you laugh or to listen to you cry.  Erica practically lived at my house with me and we became guru's on guitar hero.  I remember the day he left sitting on her porch, "Chrissy, if you can get through this you can get through anything."  She was right.  You can and you will.  

You will also have one massive break down thinking you can't do it anymore.  I'll never ever forget the night that happened to me.  It was the night of the bonfire; the weekend before school started.  The next morning at volleyball my eyes were swollen shut.  I remember my friend Cara getting out of her car and the first thing she said was "what the hell happened to you?"  I cried for hours thinking I can never do this.   You can though.  I promise you that.  Boot camp changes you too.  You learn about yourself, life, and your relationship.  You become a different person over those 3 months, too.  It gets to the point where you feel so broken down and you miss them so much (really it's like they are non-existent sometimes)  that you just can't keep doing.  Whatever you do, don't give up.  Remember why you're waiting and you will never regret it. 

It pays off in the end.  Every second of those 3 months is worth it when you see them again.  I remember first seeing him on family day.  I lost it!  I couldn't believe he was finally there in front of me again.. and that hug.  Gah!  Although I got tears all over the perfectly fixed uniform.  Oops.  Oh, but lesson #5: don't be surprised when all they can do is "escort" you on family day.  I was so pissed.  I waited alllllll day long for my little kiss hoping no one saw so he didn't get reamed.  Although, I spent most of that day angry he was so distant.   

Which brings me to boot camp lesson #6: they will be different.  Not a whole lot, but definitely different.  Oh, and A LOT skinnier.  Don't worry, it doesn't take long to get the beer gut back.  They break you all the way down so they can build you back up.  I hated them for it at first, but I appreciated it later.  I hated so many things the MC did to us and in the end I appreciated it.  It made us the people we were and it only made us stronger.

My point through all of this is it's a huge shock at first, but you learn to adjust and survive.  And when you make it through you realize that it was worth it.  Boot camp is just the start of this long journey and it's crazy for me to look back on it now because I knew absolutely nothing about the Marines then.  So that's where I stand now: to be there for the ones that don't know.  I think how different it would have been if someone had told me what to expect.   I didn't find my Corpswives family until much later so at the beginning I felt really alone.  Truth is, you're never alone when it comes to the MC.  It's just a matter of finding that family and learning to lean on them when you need them.  That's the definite upside. 

Just being me

Today is honestly the  best day I've had probably since this has happened.  I'm really not even sure why, but I actually feel kinda happy today.  That's a big deal for me people!

First of all it is absolutely beautiful outside.  The sun is shining bright, the white puffy clouds with a blue sky, and the smell of spring is everywhere.  I love spring.  I feel like after this fall/winter that I had it truly represents a "new" life or a "rebirth."  Weird, I know.  But it's true.

Second (and this is going to sound ridiculously nerdy): I got a perfect on my memoir!  I was so nervous because I wasn't sure that I really got my point across.  Probably because anytime I talked about it or read it I totally disconnected myself from it so I could hold it together.  It made me so happy that every time someone read it they thought it was good. I'm proud of myself, too.  For being able to write that.  It was so incredibly difficult for me.  I never knew how powerful my writing could be.

Which brings me to my third and final point.  You, my readers (and Joshua you included), have really warmed my heart lately with your kind comments.  I can't tell you how much it means to me to know that what I am writing helps other people and is inspiring.  Honestly, I never thought in a million years (sometimes I really still don't) that I could make an impact on people just for writing about what I'm going through.  I never imagined that I could make that type of impression on my readers.  I love it though.. so much.  I love writing and I love this blog.  A few people have brought up the idea of writing a book with what I have already done in this blog and my memoir.  You know what?  I just might.  It will probably take me a long time, but I love sharing my story.  I want people to know us and I want to be able to help other people that are going through this same tragedy.  Who knows.. maybe there really is some blessing in disguise.

For the first time the other night I went back to older posts.  I hadn't done that yet because I thought it would trigger some emotions, but it didn't too much.  I was sharing some of the stuff on here with someone and I realized something.  Even though it doesn't always feel like it, I have come so far.  When I read posts from the first month there was so much more of that "fog" and pain.  I was angry and hurting.  A hot freakin mess (which is to be expected).  But when you are going through something so tragic you don't see the progress that you really are making each and every day.  I'm glad that I decided to write about it from the beginning.  I wrote my first post three days after I got the terrible news and where I was then compared to where I am now is two completely different people.

I'm slowly, but surely, learning to find myself again.  Just being me.  I will never ever ever forget him.  Josh will be in my heart along with all of those memories until the day I die.  I will always miss him and wish that things were different, but I am learning to live without him there in the physical sense.  Honestly, if he can see me, I think he would be really proud of me.  I really do.  For the first time in my life I am taking control of me and doing whatever it takes to make me happy.   I tried so hard for so long to "fill the void."  Now that I've stopped and focused on myself, I'm learning to be happy again and I love every second of it.

I was lucky to find love and when you find one like that.. you never lose it.  It stays with you forever.  Sure, I  will love again.  He would want me to.  No matter what I won't stop loving him.  He will love me back just as much even from far away.  They always say, "distance makes the heart grow fonder."  It's just a distance and this won't last forever.  Just our temporary home.

Living life is the hard part.  Dying is easy.  If I learned something it's that we're all fighters and we have to find a way to get through this life no matter what is thrown at us.  Reality is: no one has it easy.  And no matter how bad things may seem, it could always be worse.  I have had quite a life, but I am so lucky.  I have a family, friends, a job, an education, a career that I love, and so much more.  I may be missing a huge piece of my life, but I am determined.  This isn't going to shut me down.  I won't let it happen and neither will Josh.  He loved me more than anything else in this world and he wanted me to be happy.   I'm not going to waste it.  Life is short friends so don't waste a second.

Lots of love <3

Nights in the Backwoods

Hello blogging world! I haven't forgotten about you, but for some reasons professors think it's cool to give you tons of work to do in the last 4 weeks of the semester.  Not to mention I picked up extra hours at work so I have time for nothing.

Anyways, I spent some time out and about this weekend.  Anyone who lives around here knows when you're underage and bored you're probably hitting up some back roads on the weekends.  I was out this weekend and no matter who I'm with or what I'm doing I don't stop thinking about you.  I went back by Allen Bridge and the last time I was there was with you.  Really the only time I ever went to any of these places was with you.  It just makes my heart sink into my stomach to think of all the things we used to do together.

Lately I have had such a longing.  A longing to get my life back.  I was happy with the way things were (not that I realized how happy I really was at the time).  I took entirely too much for granted and I regret that more than anyone knows now.  I feel like it's been so long since I've touched you and talked to you.  All I want is to have that back. 

You know- I get a lot of hugs these days, but it isn't the same.  I remember hugging you or just laying on the couch in your arms and I always felt safe.  I felt like no one in the world could hurt me and it was like I belonged there.  I hate hate hate not having that anymore.  I want it back.  And really who is to say I'll ever find that again?

People tell me over and over again how lucky I was to know that kind of love.  They're right: I'm extremely lucky that I had you in my life for 5 years.  But what if I don't find that again?  Am I just going to "settle" because it doesn't happen twice in one lifetime?  Not that I want to just move on with it and forget it all but it would be kinda nice to take some steps in the right direction and at least feel like someone cared about me that way again. 

I know it won't happen overnight and maybe not even in the next few years.  It's just a constant longing to have that figure back in my life.  Right now I'm focused on me and what makes me happy.  Eventually though I don't want to have to do it alone.  It was a lot easier for me when you were by my side no matter what.  It's a hard adjustment learning to do it yourself again.. No fun. 

On an exciting note... I'm going to Las Vegas!!! Scary thought, babe.  Don't worry I'll be extra safe.  I mean come on how many opportunities do you get to spend your 21st birthday in Vegas?  That would be 1, if any.  I'm super excited.  I think it will be good for me and not to sound like a brat, but I kinda think I deserve to have a good birthday after everything I have been through in the last 7 months.  Besides that, the bars in Indiana aren't going anywhere and they will all still be here when I get back.  No big deal people.  Besides, my decision. My birthday.  It'll be fun.  Don't get too jealous, Joshua, you can always come with :)

A Beautiful Nightmare

Here it is.. the final product. I still don't like it, but I really can't look at it anymore..

A Beautiful Nightmare

It was a beautiful morning, the sun was shining bright and I could feel its rays through the high window in my room.  I rolled around in my bed as I heard my cell phone ringing thinking it was my alarm.  Of course, another phone call and someone waking me up before my alarm.  Grumpy and tired I rolled over and picked up my phone.  I saw it wasn’t my boyfriend; it was his Dad, which was even more disappointing because if I’m getting up early it at least better be a call from Afghanistan.  I missed the call so I listened to the voicemail that said to call him back.  Something was off.  Something didn’t feel right.  I frantically hit send on my phone and it started ringing.  “Chrissy,” started off the worst conversation of my life.  I sat up in my bed, clearly something was wrong.  Maybe he was just hurt.  Maybe something happened to his mom. Maybe they needed something.  I yelled, “what is going on?”  More than once.  I wish I had never gotten a response.  His voice trembled as I heard, “Chrissy, Josh was killed this morning.”  Oh, no.

No.

No.

No.

This was not going to happen to me.  No way.  It can’t be.  I kept telling him he was lying to me.  He wasn’t lying.  The casualty assistance officer was there (they were out of state so another officer notified them).  It was real.  A military spouses worst nightmare was about to become my life.  He hung up the phone and I sat in my room.  I couldn’t even cry.  Thoughts raced through my head, what do I do?  Is this really happening right now?  I took off out of my bed and down the stairs.  I, hysterically, went through the rooms yelling for my Nana.  She was putting my little cousins on the bus outside, but she heard me and came barging through the door asking what was wrong.  “Nana, they killed him.”

I hit the floor. 

And burst into tears…..  It was real.

As I sat there on the floor holding my Nana’s leg like I had nothing left she asked me over and over again if I was sure.  Was I sure?  Maybe it’s a mistake?  It could be.  Maybe I’m dreaming.  Nope.  I’m wide-awake.  Is this really happening to me?  Is this what this feels like? Because I didn’t see it happening this way.  I managed to text a few of my friends.  All they said was “Josh died.”  I couldn’t get anything more than that out at the moment.  In between my tears I looked up seeing my five-year-old cousin peering around the corner with fear in her eyes wondering what was going on.  What was going on?  Mass chaos.  That’s what.  My nana had left me on the floor as I heard her call my aunt, who was on her way to work, telling her to come back home.  My great grandparents (who are 90 and 86) came flying in the door.  I could see the heartbreak and pain in their eyes.  No one knew what to say.  I cried.  And cried.  And cried.  For so long my Pap has fixed all my life problems.  But today.. he was just as helpless as I was.  A few minutes later my aunt came running around the corner with tears in her eyes.  She crouched down beside me on the floor hugging me as I rocked back and fourth.  Somehow I made it to the couch.  I remember sitting there.  Word had spread like wild fire.  I had facebook notifications going to my phone because while he was gone that was his way of waking me up if he didn’t have a phone.  I sat there.  Holding my phone.  Not even able to keep up with the calls, text messages, facebook notifications.  New text.  Call. Facebook. Call. Text. Text. Voicemail. Facebook. Call. Text. STOP!

The pure panic and shock that I felt was felt by others as well.  I thought for sure my phone was going to blow up.  I couldn’t even keep up with all of the messages coming through.  Before I knew it flowers were showing up at the door.  Flowers?  Come on people I haven’t even processed what is happening and you already have flowers at the door?  My dad came with my brother.  Watching his sweet little girl completely devastated willing to do whatever it takes to make it better.  I grabbed my laptop.  I remember emailing Dr. Fello and Dr. Creany, my professors for my classes the morning, and my boss:

I just wanted to let you all know that I will not be present in class or work today.  I found out within the half hour that my boyfriend who was in Afghanistan was KIA.  If there is anything I need to do please let me know.
Thanks,
Chrissy

It was only a matter of time before the news stations caught wind.  Knocking on the door, calling my cell phone, driving around town looking for answers.  Go away.  They want me to admit this is real already?  I don’t think so.  I don’t even know what’s going on to be honest.  The bottomless, nauseous, pit in my stomach is over whelming.  I logged on to facebook.  A chat box popped up.  It was one of Josh’s good friends who was serving in Afghanistan.  His brother had died the year before.  As comforting as it was to talk to him for a few minutes I remember thinking how bad I felt for him when it happened.  Now its me?  Now I understand what it was like for him?  Not to be a jerk, but it was better when it was someone else.  I didn’t want it to be me.  We had a life planned.  We were supposed to get married.  We were supposed to have a family.  This deployment was the last of the Marine Corps.  Why?!  Why me?!  It wasn’t supposed to happen this way.  I don’t want it to happen this way.

That’s it.

I’m going back to sleep.  I slammed my laptop shut.  I grabbed my fuzzy blanket and my care bear, who has never let me down my whole entire life.  I laid my head down on the pillow.  I remember feeling the throbbing and discomfort from the amount of tears I had cried that morning.  I closed my eyes.  I waited.  I cracked open an eye.  It was still happening.  I closed my eyes again.  Go to sleep, Chrissy.  Just go to sleep.  You’ll wake up and everything will be okay.

Before I knew it someone else was barging through the door.  I heard them talking to my aunt in the kitchen.  She came over and bent over by the couch.  I had to go to Josh’s parents.  The CACO (Casualty Assistance Officer) was going to be there shortly.  I argued about getting a shower.  I lost that battle as my aunt shoved me up the stairs.  I kept thinking really? Who gives a crap if I take a freakin shower right now?  Not me.  BUT I did it anyways to shut everybody up. 

I started getting myself together as I heard two of my friends at the door.  I talked to them for a few minutes but everyone was rushing me to get over there.  FINE.  You people need to relax I’ll get there when I get there.  I’m not the most prompt person when my whole life comes tumbling down.  I quietly got into the car.  I remember driving over and I swear every song that ever meant something came on the radio.  The tears strolled down my face as I passed through the roads I only ever took to see him.  I clung to the little stuffed pig in my lap.  It was his pig from when he had surgery as a tiny tot.  Mr. Piggy don’t fail me now.  Please make it better.  Right you psycho like a stuffed pig is going to fix your life right now.  Wishful thinking.

We pulled in. 

His uncle was the first to meet me wrapping his arms around me, calling me “bud” just like he always did.  Then his mom.  She grabbed me and I cried.  I watched the black explorer with US Government on the license plate pulled into the driveway.  Two men in their Alphas.  They shut the car doors and walked toward the house.  His mom put her arm around me and walked me inside.  I sat down in a chair closest to the two Marines clinging to the pig in my lap.  I looked around.. his parents, two brothers, sister, and one uncle sat quietly in the room.  The Staff Sergeant opened his black folder and started to talk.  It was real.  My body went into a fog.. setting itself on auto pilot.. and I was about to start the hardest and worst journey of my life..

Caring

I stopped.  I stopped caring about anything and everything.  I was looking at some pictures from this weekend and I am so disgusted with myself.  I was going to make this year about me.  Doing things that made me happy again.  But all I have done is let myself fall further and further into this hole because I just don't give a crap about anything.

For the longest time I always wondered how people let themselves get so over weight.  Well, now I know.  It's because you don't care about what anything does to you so you just continue to do it now matter how bad it is for you.  I have put on over 20 pounds since September.  It's disgusting.  I look disgusting.  I just keep thinking how disappointed you would be with me right now.  If you were around you would be kicking my ass for acting like this.

I have no desire to do anything anymore.  Seriously, it's sick.  Sure I'll get up and go out and go to school and go to work.  But really, all I want to do is lay in bed and do nothing; which I do a lot of times because I don't' care to do anything.  It's awful.  I don't even know how you find it in yourself again to find that purpose or desire in life.  It's just.. gone.

Last night I had a legit meltdown when I started thinking about all of this.  You would kill me.  I think what hurts the most is knowing how disappointed you would be with me because of how I'm acting.  You never wanted me to act like this ever and especially not on your account.  And I hate that when something comes up about my weight or something else that I stopped giving a crap about people will say "hey, at least you have a good excuse."  A good excuse?  I shouldn't be using that as some lame excuse to let myself go.

I better find a way to start caring again and fast.  This is ridiculous and it's not me.  Ugh!

Army Wives (and 300!)

301 to be exact.  When I started this blog I never imagined that so many people would read it.  I was pleasantly surprised when I logged on this morning to see that my followers had passed the 300 mark.  I want to thank all of you for reading my story and passing it along.  It is so important to me to tell people our story and as time goes on it warms my heart to see how many people are interested in it.  Not to mention the support I receive here.  Much love to you all!

I'm sure most of you military spouses are sucked into good ole Army Wives.  I've been watching from day one and we all knew what we were in for last night.  That show tugged at my heart as it was a lot of flashback and how I remember things.  The thing that bugs me is about 10 days worth of stuff was packed into 45 minutes.  People pass off the assumption that they know what it's like now that they have seen an episode about it on television.  No.  No you don't.  Or the fact that people say how they cried and cried and they couldn't even imagine.  You're right.. you couldn't.  If you think watching it on tv is bad.. ha!  Try an hours worth in real life. 

I think it kinda bugs me sometimes to know that people say "Oh, that breaks my heart I could never even imagine going through that.. I feel so bad for the widows."  Right.  But what bugs me is knowing in the back of people's minds they are saying "thank God it's not me."  I know if roles were reversed I'd be saying it too, but I hate knowing what people really have going on in their head.  You saw glimpses into what it might be like.  Sure a lot of things were right and it gave you a decent idea, but there is so much more to it than that. 

I recently started writing a memoir for class, which I plan on changing because I don't like it; but it is so incredibly painful to rehash those memories.  Until I started writing this I had no idea how much I had pushed that pain away in a place where I didn't dig it out.  But writing it on paper.. trying to relive it.. is like breaking my heart all over again.  I actually had to stop writing because I don't know that I could have handled anymore and to be quite honest I didn't remember much more after that because it quickly became a living fog.  I'm going to share what I have with you (it is not the final product by any means), but I would really like some feedback on it.  I would really appreciate it :)

So here's my memoir about the morning of September 2nd:

It was a beautiful morning, the sun was shining bright and I could feel its rays through the high window in my room.  I rolled around in my bed as I heard my cell phone ringing thinking it was my alarm.  Of course, another phone call and someone waking me up before my alarm.  Grumpy and tired I rolled over and picked up my phone.  I saw it wasn’t my boyfriend; it was his Dad, which was even more disappointing because if I’m getting up early it at least better be a call from Afghanistan.  I missed the call so I listened to the voicemail that said to call him back.  Something was off.  Something didn’t feel right.  I frantically hit send on my phone and it started ringing.  “Chrissy,” started off the worst conversation of my life.  I sat up in my bed, clearly something was wrong.  Maybe he was just hurt.  Maybe something happened to his mom. Maybe they needed something.  I yelled, “what is going on?”  More than once.  I wish I had never gotten a response.  His voice trembled as I heard, “Chrissy, Josh was killed this morning.”  Oh, no. No. No. No. This was not going to happen to me.  No way.  It can’t be.  I kept telling him he was lying to me.  He wasn’t lying.  The casualty assistance officer was there.  It was real.  A military spouses worst nightmare was about to become my life.  He hung up the phone and I sat in my room.  I couldn’t even cry.  Thoughts raced through my head, what do I do?  Is this real?  I took off out of my bed and down the stairs.  I, hysterically, went through the rooms yelling for my Nana.  She was putting my little cousins on the bus outside, but she heard me and came through the door asking what was wrong.  “Nana, they killed him.” I hit the floor.  And burst into tear.  It was real.

As I sat there on the floor holding my Nana’s leg like I had nothing left she asked me over and over again if I was sure.  Was I sure?  Maybe it’s a mistake?  It could be.  Maybe I’m dreaming.  Nope.  I’m wide-awake.  Is this really happening to me?  Is this what this feels like? Because I didn’t see it happening this way.  I managed to text a few of my friends.  All they said was “Josh died.”  I couldn’t get anything more than that out at the moment.  In between my tears I looked up seeing my five-year-old cousin peering around the corner with fear in her eyes wondering what was going on.  What was going on?  Mass chaos.  That’s what.  My nana had left me on the floor as I heard her call my aunt, who was on her way to work, telling her to come back home.  My great grandparents (who are 90 and 86) came flying in the door.  I could see the heartbreak and pain in their eyes.  No one knew what to say.  I cried.  And cried.  And cried.  For so long my Pap has fixed all my life problems.  But today.. he was just as helpless as I was.  A few minutes later my aunt came running around the corner with tears in her eyes.  She crouched down beside me on the floor hugging me as I rocked back and fourth.  Somehow I made it to the couch.  I remember sitting there.  Word had spread like wild fire.  I had facebook notifications going to my phone because while he was gone that was his way of waking me up if he didn’t have a phone.  I sat there.  Holding my phone.  Not even able to keep up with the calls, text messages, facebook notifications.  The pure panic and shock that I felt, was felt by others as well.  I thought for sure my phone was going to blow up.  I couldn’t even keep up with all of the messages coming through.  Before I knew it flowers were showing up at the door.  Flowers?  Come on people I haven’t even processed what is happening and you already have flowers at the door?  My dad came with my brother.  Watching his sweet little girl completely devastated willing to do whatever it takes to make it better.  I grabbed my laptop.  I remember emailing Dr. Fello and Dr. Creany, my professors for my classes the morning, telling them briefly and bluntly I won’t be there today. 

It was only a matter of time before the news stations caught wind.  Knocking on the door, calling my cell phone, driving around town looking for answers.  Go away.  They want me to admit this is real already?  I don’t think so.  I don’t even know what’s going on to be honest.  The bottomless, nauseous, pit in my stomach is over whelming.  I logged on to facebook.  A chat box popped up.  It was one of Josh’s good friends who was serving in Afghanistan.  His brother had died the year before.  As comforting as it was to talk to him for a few minutes I remember thinking how bad I felt for him when it happened.  Now its me?  Now I understand what it was like for him?  Not to be a jerk, but it was better when it was someone else.  I didn’t want it to be me.  We had a life planned.  We were supposed to get married.  We were supposed to have a family.  This deployment was the last of the Marine Corps.  Why?!  Why me?!  It wasn’t supposed to happen this way.  I don’t want it to happen this way.

That’s it.

I’m going back to sleep.  I slammed my laptop shut.  Grabbed my fuzzy blanket and my care bear who has never let me down my whole entire life.  I laid my head down on the pillow.  I remember feeling the throbbing and discomfort from the amount of tears I had cried that morning.  I closed my eyes.  I waited.  I cracked open an eye.  It was still happening.  I closed my eyes again.  Go to sleep, Chrissy.  Just go to sleep.  You’ll wake up and everything will be okay.

Before I knew it someone else was barging through the door.  I heard them talking to my aunt in the kitchen.  She came over and bent over by the couch.  I had to go to Josh’s parents.  The CACO (Casualty Assistance Officer) was going to be there shortly.  I argued about getting a shower.  I lost that battle as my aunt shoved me up the stairs.  I kept thinking really? Who gives a crap if I take a freakin shower right now?  Not me.  BUT I did it anyways to shut everybody up. 

I started getting myself together as I heard two of my friends at the door.  I talked to them for a few minutes but everyone was rushing me to get over there.  FINE.  You people need to relax I’ll get there when I get there.  I’m not the most prompt person when my whole life comes tumbling down.  I quietly got into the car.  I remember driving over and I swear every song that ever meant something came on the radio.  The tears strolled down my face as I passed through the roads I only ever took to see him.  I clung to the little stuffed pig in my lap.  It was his pig from when he had surgery as a tiny tot.  Mr. Piggy don’t fail me now.  Please make it better.  Right you psycho like a stuffed pig is going to fix your life right now.  Wishful thinking.

We pulled in.  His uncle was the first to meet me wrapping his arms around me, calling me “bud” just like he always did.  Then his mom.  She grabbed me and I cried.  I watched the black explorer with US Government on the license plate.  Two men in their Alphas.  They shut the car doors and walked toward the house.  His mom put her arm around me and walked in side.  I sat down in a chair closest to the two Marines.  Clinging to the pig in my lap.  I looked around.. his parents, two brothers, sister, and one uncle sat quietly in the room.  The Staff Sergeant opened his black folder and started to talk.  It was real.  My body went into a fog.. setting itself on auto pilot.. and I was about to start the hardest and worst journey of my life..

Guilt

My newest feeling on this craptastic journey.  Guilt.  And let me tell you it's not a fun one.  I don't even know why it suddenly hit me so hard.  I've been going out a little more because it's easier for me to be around people these days (I know back and forth).  When I go out and meet new people, they don't know my story.  They don't judge me.  The treat me like a "normal" (whatever that means anymore) person.  It's kinda nice.  I like it when I don't have to be "that girl."  But the guilt for crawling out of my little hole starts to get overwhelming.

I'll question why I'm still here and why you aren't.  How can I even think about enjoying myself when you're not here?  It makes me feel selfish.  I'll smile or laugh.  Then it hits you like "oh my god what am I doing."  It seems so wrong to feel "okay."  I guess before this happened to me I expected to be shriveled up in bed for the rest of my life.  Wasting away just waiting to die.  But it's not like that.

I know you and I know that you would never want that for me.  You would never want me to waste my life because you weren't here.  That's just how you were.. never selfish.  Everyone else came before you because you wanted us to be happy.  And really if roles were reversed.. I wouldn't want that for you either.  If you love someone you don't want them to suffer forever.  

But of course you have the judgmental assholes.  Believe me people.. just because you see a smile or a laugh doesn't mean that I'm over it.  It doesn't mean that I don't feel the pain and hurt.  Doesn't mean I stopped crying or forgot what happened.  I never will.  But at some point or another I have to slowly start living again.  As much as I would like it, the world never stops turning.  The world goes on whether you choose to go with it or not.  There is no pause, rewind, or fast-forward button.  It would be pretty sweet if there was, but it doesn't work that way. 

We have a choice to live our life.  You get one shot at it and you can either go with it and make the best of it or you can waste it.  It's up to you.  That's the amazing thing about you.. you knew that about life and you lived every second like it was your last.  You never wasted anytime because you knew the reality and how fragile life really is. You loved and you laughed.  You had fun.  21 years can be painfully short, but I know you didn't have a single regret.  That's what I always loved about you.  The way you lived your life. 

I remember last March when you were home for a week because of your Grandmas funeral.  That Saturday the weather was beautiful. Over 80 degrees and the sun was shining bright.  I remember that day because it was the first time in a long time we had some quality me and you time.  We went to lunch, played putt putt (which I won.. just in case you forgot), and got some Rita's.  A me and you day.  I don't know that I ever told you how much it meant to me.  I miss those days.

As much as I miss those days it reminds me of one thing: to live my life.  Don't waste time.  I still feel  you around me and I know that's why I have those "okay" days.  You don't want me to feel guilty or unhappy.  You want me to be happy and you're not going to be mad at me when I start living again.  It doesn't work that way when you love someone that much.

So guilty feelings.. please go away.  I slowly but surely want to start to be happy again even if it's just a little bit at a time (which I am totally okay with for now).  It's not an instant change, but something that will come with that dreaded word: time.