He returned to me that weekend, in time to assuage my troubled mind. The days flew by in a fleeting moment, and I thought that I had made my choice.
Sunday, March 19, 2006
I understand how it must be now. The haze from my eyes has cleared, and I am back to where I belong. It is good to be home, but I feel the seed of regret nestled in the pit of my stomach. I am determined not to give in to it, convinced that it’s one more string of wounds. I am confident in my ability to numb myself to pain, for I’ve done it many times before. I feel the beginnings of it creeping up inside my veins, and I welcome its icy nothingness. I will not yield to my own petty weakness, and even though it hurts me to do so, I will exchange pleasantries and move on.
For two weeks, I was of one mind, content with my decision to stay with him that loved me so much. I was his everything. How could I take that away? My conscience, my honor, my pride could not bear to part with him, and so I stayed.
The time came for my love to sail away. Duty called, and no amount of wanting or wishing could keep him here with me. In the final days, we held each other up, laughing and crying in equal proportion; in the final days, we had to say goodbye, though neither of us could have known the permanence of the parting.
Tuesday, April 4, 2006
I walk around campus unseeing, unfeeling, like a lost soul wandering aimlessly without a sense of obligation, motivation or purpose, like a shadow of my former self. I see friendly faces; they wave at me. I force a weak smile and move along, not sure why I didn’t stop to talk. Every movement is a burden, and I feel dead inside. There is no consolation or remedy for me, except time, time to dull the pain and time to drown myself in work and school.
I cried into my pillow for the first time in years, trying to stifle the breathtaking sobs of a lover’s lament. If only I could have heard his voice one last time, if only to tell me that I would be okay, if only to tell me to be strong, then maybe I could breathe again.
These past two years have taken their toll on me, and now I’m tired. I’m tired of being left behind, I’m tired of my loneliness, I’m tired of working and studying so hard when I’m constantly denied the one thing I truly want. Don’t go where I can follow you, my Heart. Please don’t leave me anymore.
God, please help me through this trying time if You can hear me. I’m not much for prayer, but I need strength, and I have none left of my own.
I know the fear inside my heart.
I feel my body shaking.
And then I look before me there,
To see my firm ground quaking.
Every minute, every hour,
Every moment waking,
I feel my strength begin to fail,
I feel my heart is breaking.
My love is gone, my hope is lost.
I feel the pain this life has cost.
My spirits down, my sadness great,
I feel my strength evaporate.
Oh, God, I pray, please show Your face.
Bestow on me Your loving grace.
Give me strength and make me strong,
And let me be my whole life long.
I will not cry, I dare not break.
I’ll lift my head and in it take.
I’ll never show, I’ll not display.
I’ll keep my fears locked tight away,
So no one sees and no one knows
Inside a raging tempest blows.
And then alone, whilst not at bay,
I’ll cry and to my God, I’ll pray.
Show Your mercy, light my way,
Guide me through another day.
I turn to You, and here I lay.
I trust in You, let come what may.
For weeks my Heart and I corresponded through e-mail, the only media which was permitted us. He wrote me everyday, at least twice, sometimes more. I clung to those messages, my missives of hope in a time when I had none. Every e-mail began with “Hey baby,” and read “I miss you” in the subject line.
I can’t stop thinking about you, he would write. You have been on my mind all day and in my dreams. I hate this underway, and I can’t wait to be done with the navy and be with you always. All I can do is think about you. My heart is killing me right now, and I have that empty feeling in my chest that I always get when I leave you. I miss you so much. I would give anything to be home with you right now.
Without you I feel empty. I have no purpose in life until I get back to you. You may think you are being weak, but you are not. You’re doing great, my beautiful girl. Crying is not a sign of weakness. I don’t mind crying in front of you, and it doesn’t bother me at all when you cry. The only thing that bothers me is that I can’t be there to catch your tears. Once we make it through these months apart, we will soon be together forever.
He always signed his letters with “No Matter What,” a phrase we’d coined as childhood sweethearts, and sealed it with a kiss.
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