Happy (Canadian) Thanks Giving

I would say “I wish M was here”, but I wouldn’t wish this place on anyone.

I wish M and I were together.

h&v

hi there

So it’s been a few days. I’ve had some thoughts over the past week, and every time I was in front of my computer those thoughts were strangely missing.

I’ve been hearing a lot from  M. He emails me at least once a day, and has sent several pics of the camp. The strangest part has been how happy he sounds. Its a comfort to me, because when he’s unhappy on ex it makes my time harder, because of feelings of helplessness. His relative happiness over there is making my time easier here. It’s hard facing down 6 months of this, but I know so many good things will be happening within those 6 months that it makes the time a little easier to face.

Good thing #1!! My mother and sister are coming to visit me!! They’ll arrive in the Capital the day before Halloween, so I will be touring them around on Halloween!! My facebook status was in regards to the snow that was blowing around, and my sister had a less than favourable response. Hahah! They told us we would get 30cm (1′) last night, but of course that never happened. Stupid weather people. This province couldn’t accurately tell the weather to save their lives!

Good thing #2. I’ve been stressing a LOT about M’s HLTA, because I was having to plan both airfares and destination, but M has just informed me that the clerk at his camp will do everything for us, as long as I give him the correct information! I’m also thinking about taking longer. M leaves camp prior to his actual HLTA dates, which would leave him a week on his own before I arrive. So I’m thinking of leaving 5 days earlier. I can take advantage of another weekend, and see my dearest for longer than planned.

Good thing #3. Home Province for New Years!! I’m planning my return flight to the Home Province vice the Capital, so that way I can see my friends and fam a little.

So those are the immediate things. Other changes in the future have happened as well. It doesn’t look like I’ll be going to South Africa anymore this late winter/early spring, as it turns out my cousin is getting married in November in the Dominican. M wants to attend (!!?! I think the heat has fried his brain which allowed him to forget that he hates weddings!), and I don’t think I can do 3 big trips within the span of a year. It also takes off a load of financial stress not having to worry about airfare to SA. Or the amount of time off I’d have to take (that I don’t have!)

I received the photos from the professional shoot last weekend, and literally spent my time mooning over them. They’re fantastic. So many of them are just perfect. There’s one in particular taken in front of an old warehouse, I want to frame it in the living room (even though I was only JOKING when I said I was going to frame one of our photos in the giant frame in the living room), it’s more artsy than mushy, so I think it will be okay. Plus, the colours of the warehouse match the colours of our living room :)

So, inspired by the mooning was a heightened sense of the Love that I feel for M. Plus the emails he’s been sending, I’ve been feeling very connected to him. I’m still vaguely emotionally unstable, but the precipice on which I balance has become less pronounced. A rolling hill versus a cliff.

Speaking of emotional stability, I went out with Sr last night to a tiny community that was hosting an Irish band. When we looked at the list of cities they toured in, we were like, “why the FUCK would they pick this place?”  2 hours from the base, not in the direction of any great city! Literally the middle of nowhere. However, we did have the best Chinese food either of us have consumed in this province, oddly enough. Considering the huge level of immigration to the city adjacent the base, the Chinese food there SUCKS.
The show was good, and as I told Sr after the show, the Music Appreciation nights M and I have where he forces me to listen to the Dubliners probably helped. I did feel a smug superiority (as a Scot) when the Uillean pipe player was discussing differences between the Uillean (or Irish) Pipes and the traditional Scottish Bagpipes. This is a constant and amusing tension that is generally present in my relationship with M. He is Very Irish and Very British (father born in Belfast, mother born somewhere in England), and I claim to be Very Scottish, even though that part of my heritage is more diluted than I knew (until recently). We’re in a constant battle of “who is better”.

Wow, so I totally digressed from the introductory sentence of “speaking of emotional stability”. The whole thing was supposed to be a revisiting of the conversation I had with Sr when I first discovered the dissolving of her marriage, about how angry I am, all the time. She had been discussing her anger management classes (as she works with the incarcerated and recently released), and I had asked for tips. On the drive back to the base I had mentioned to her that recently I realized I haven’t been angry in a while. Not unjustifiably angry, anyway. And the apathy I had written about before isn’t there anymore either. I think it may be possible that I finally moved beyond that step in the grieving process. I haven’t felt a shred of anger towards M regarding his leaving (i.e. abandoning me). I haven’t even felt apathy. I’ve felt sadness, fear, excitement, but nothing that didn’t belong.
I think I’ll just skip the remaining three steps :)

So today my plans kind of got shit canned. Sg and I were supposed to get together with her neighbour for a waffle breakfast, then take a jaunt to the local provincial park where there’s supposedly a haunted house. Sg slept in, didn’t give me details as to todays timings, and stood her neighbour up. So I’m trying to decide whether to head to town to pick up some weather stripping for the doors, plastic for the windows and some caulking (I need to caulk the baseboards, there’s an awful draft in here, and we determined that’s where it came from last year), or head to work to do some overtime so I can take a day off when my mom and sis come.
Tonight I’m either heading in to town to see Zombieland with Sg, or Couples Retreat with Ts.  Tomorrow is Thanksgiving with L and Tg, as Tg’s husband leaves at o’ dark stupid that night/next morning. Then Monday is Thanksgiving with J5 and her family, which should be good. Her husband is Polish and apparently loves fish dishes, so win for me :)

I know there’s more in me. I’ve been over-scheduling myself, which leaves me with an anxiety about not writing. I’m planning on partaking in NoJoMo as I did last year, so you’ll hear more from me  more regularly, soon enough.

h&v

well, that sucked.

M called this morning. I asked where he was, not thinking. He said, “I’m where I should be”. He informed me that, “Italian women are hot… but they’re bitches!” I guess their stop over was in Milan, not that they could deplane. He said, “36 hours on a plane has given me stinky feet”. I had to laugh, because he’s always going on about how his feet don’t stink (because mine really really do).
Then he said he misses me. And loves me. And by the end of the phone call I was choking on my own throat trying to speak through the tears.

It was brief, but needed. Internet connection some time soon, maybe. And then trying to coordinate schedules so we can actually chat. He likes where he is (compared to where others are), and the “pool” is better than its reputation. He sounded good. Happy. My hopes are high, but the reality of the situation is keeping me in check.

I’m swinging between, “this is going to suck”, and “this won’t be so bad”.

Right now it feels pretty sucktastic.

Blah.

h&v

rusted from the rain

I realized something today, while being introspective on the drive to my bosses house after work. M needs a hobby. If, heaven forbid, we were to stay here after tour, he needs to do something that gets him out of the house. I have grocery shopping, I have the nightly walks, I have band weekly, and I have “girls brunch and a movie” dates every so often. He. Never. Leaves. The. House.

We’d discussed this once in the year and a half we’ve lived together, and he said that he goes away enough, so he gets dibs on staying home if he so chooses. That’s fine, when he’s going away semi-regularly. But today I breathed a sigh of relief that I get to come back to my house and be quiet instead of being whatever version of “on” I am around him.

Army wives regularly recognize the perks of having a partner who is away a lot (you have to, or you’d drown in the suckage). I just didn’t realize that this particular perk is actually a necessity.

* * *

By the way, still no contact from M. I’ve sent 3 emails, in the meantime…

* * *

If I had an iPod, there would be four songs on repeat:

rusted from the rain by Billy Talent – this song is full of great one liners. For example “I used to be a lapdog, now I’m just a stray”, or perhaps, “If I’m the king of cowards, you’re the queen of pain”.

notion by Kings of Leon – I have liked everything this band has released (on this shithole’s local radio, anyway). So I downloaded the discography. I intend on indulging in some Music Appreciation this weekend to grow this new Love.

she’s a genius by Jet - Again, I’m familiar with the singles, but I Love this song, and the video is pretty good.

ain’t no rest for the wicked by Cage the Elephant – I’d never heard of this band until this song. But I’m their newest biggest fan now :)

* * *

One of my close friends here, L, is going through some serious shit with her husband. To the point where I may acquire a temporary room mate. I feel like an asshole, because I disappeared for a while with M’s deployment, and then I find out this transpired. Apparently every single one of her girlfriends’ partners is being deployed, so she’s suffered in silence. Yep. Here’s me sucking as a friend again. *sigh*

On a different front, one of the infamous four, Ls, messaged me on Facebook to comment on the pro photo that I posted as our profile pic. We got to talking. Then we talked some more. I went out for my walk, and asked her if she’d be around when I got back. We then talked til 11.30pm, when I forced myself to go so I could sleep. It was… surprising… because, as usual, I thought I’d written “them” off, and here I was chatting with her and feeling the distance. It’s not often I feel the distance with anyone from the home province. There’s a lot of relief that I’m so far removed from the drama that seems to flourish there. But here I found myself missing her.
It’s easy to write people off when you live 2500 kms away from them. Heh.

I wonder what our destination will be come next posting season.
There had fucking better be one.

PTP.

h&v

the cat and I

So… well, M’s gone. Not much to say besides that. After he hopped on the bus, I headed to J3′s house with C. C’s fiance deployed with M and J3′s partner leaves in a few days. We all ate dinner together and chatted a little bit. More of a distraction from reality than anything else.

Haven’t had a big breakdown yet, but forcing it isn’t doing shit, so I’m going to settle down with a movie, and schedule myself an early bed time.

Here’s to an empty house, and cleaning up after the man I won’t see for 3 months. *sigh*

Like M has been saying. It’s just like another field ex… except with live ammunition.

h&v

t-22.5 hours

Still holding fast here on the homefront. My cousin St offered sage advise as an apprentice sommelier to choose the wine for tonight’s festivities. I had asked for a recommendation for white in the $40 range, which turned into a 20 minute conversation on a cell phone in the liquor store about regions and methods and all kinds of other stuff. We ended up with a French Chablis (Premier Cru). It’s nice, but I know nothing of wine. He said, near the end of the conversation, that he didn’t often buy $40 bottles of wine for pure drinking pleasure, but that he’d never had such an occasion. Come to think of it… it seems odd that an apprentice sommelier hasn’t drank a $40 bottle of wine for pleasure.

Today was pretty low key. Yesterday M found out that he had to have his kit packed for transport, he was expecting to have until Monday to do so. So while I was out walking, he was packing frantically. So today saw him cleaning up the back room (!!!), and packing the bag that will accompany him on the service flight.
I headed into town to grab sushi (which didn’t happen), the wine, and some munchies.

While waiting at a light backed up due to construction, I saw some guys my age holding a sign saying “traveling, broke & hungry, will accept anything you offer”. I had a bag of cookies in my car and as I was rooting around the bag to get them out, the light changed and traffic started moving. I didn’t have time to get the bag of cookies or my window open to give the bag to these two guys before I had to pull ahead. I have felt bad ever since, thinking I should have done more to help them out.

I don’t know how much longer this ‘strength’ can hold up. I think things and I can feel the tears welling up. I force it back down, but then the next time I feel it welling up, it takes so much more effort to force it back down. Eventually I’ll let the dam break, but for the time being…

I got a sneak peek from our photographer yesterday. The photos are amazing! She’s only sent 8 or so, but they’re amazing and I can’t wait to see the rest of the set!

Here’s something. I don’t need people “awwww”ing and “poor you”ing at me because my partner’s going overseas. I’ve thought of the worst that can happen. Hell, M and I have discussed contingency plans for the worst that can happen. I don’t need, when waiting to see him off, anyone calling me saying “boo hoo, you must be so sad”. Yes, I’m sad. Yes, I’ll miss him. Yes, I’m worried for his safety. But this is his job,  this is the life that I’ve chosen with him. And this is where I’ll be waiting for him upon his safe return.

Now, just to focus on not holding my breath for the next 3 months.

Comon’ HLTA!

h&v

we’ll see

I’m feeling better. A little less reluctant. A little more confident. Though my eating is out of control still, which may be masking the bulk of my anxiety.

I can’t wait until I can stop tagging my entries with ‘deployment’. How sad is it that he hasn’t even left yet.

So M flies into the Capital tomorrow around dinner time. I’m banking on Harvey’s for dinner. Then crash out in the hotel, watch some TV, have some sexin’, sleep.

I’ve arranged with a photographer to meet us in the Capital. I asked M earlier about pictures of us and he said we’d do it ourselves. I told him the other day that would require a tripod, a remote and photo editing software. This photographer is from the base, will meet us in the Capital, and will give us a CD of fully edited pictures which we can print as big or as many as we want. So, hello Christmas Presents for the family. Haha. I’m excited, since it means we’ll have good pictures of us instead of M always making his eyes cross in pictures taken by friends, or me. Goof.

We’ll head back to base some time on Friday. Saturday and maybe even Sunday he has to go into work to finish up paperwork, or something, and then Monday he hops the bus to the Capital again to fly…

I wonder how long it will take him to contact me.

Feeling a little better about him going over. Feeling a little better about me ‘being left behind’. Hah. Not that I’d want to go where he’s going.

Oh, and work sucks. Since we won the contract, it seems each and every one of us is going to get fucked when the new contract  is implemented sometime around December 1st. I asked M last night via text if I could quit, work at Home Depot and part time at Tim Horton’s. Haha. He said, “do what you’ve gotta do”. When I mentioned money, he said, “stick it out. This time next year you can be studying to become an electrician.”
We’ll see…

Tonight, cross-fit, cleaning, dyeing my hair, and a walk with J5.

h&v

ill equipped

M left this morning for his whirlwind tour of “home”. I hope it goes better for him than he anticipates.

Last night included some serious sexin’. We’ve had the conversation a few times now that we don’t “make love”, we fuck. We like it hard and fast. But in those rare moments of a long or unknown farewell, we get about as close to making love as we ever would. We call it ‘the slow fuck’.

Last night’s slow fuck was near perfection. Well, they all are, really. M is not an intuitively emotional sort of person, pretty serious things have to happen before he shows his feelings outwardly. But when we’re slow fucking, I know exactly how he feels about me.

On a sort of side note. I know he’s getting emotional about the parting as well. He’s been kissing my head. That in itself is a hint, but the frequency is something entirely more telling.

I don’t have much else. I’m working this Saturday in lieu of getting next Friday off. I’m picking up M in the Capital, and then we’re going to spend the night and have some sexin’ and enjoy the city some before heading back to the base to spend the rest of the weekend trying not to burst into tears.

Oh, we also found out from a friend whose husband is deploying with M, that the chalk is leaving at 6pm. I was really looking forward to a morning farewell, then sitting watching my favourite movies (Bridget Jones’ Diary, Stranger than Fiction, and Love Actually were on the list), in my pajamas, and eating breakfast foods for each meal.

Nothing like an emotional enema.

I’m really starting to feel ill equipped for this. And no, I don’t want to talk about it.

h&v

the pretender

Sometimes you’re talking, chatting, musing with someone and something falls out of your mouth/off the tips of your fingers that is so True, you have to stop and wonder at it.

I called an old work friend from back home. Let her know M was departing. She was there for the beginning, she gave us her blessing and has been one of the few, surprisingly, to keep in touch despite distance. After chatting with her for a while I facebook chatted with another old coworker from the same company. As we were chatting I put it out there that “going with the flow” was the way of the military spouse. She replied, “I guess so… I don’t know how you do it… you’re so strong“.

I’ve written many times about how much I hate that word. But today I think I nailed the reason why. I said to her, in explanation of why I hate being called strong (and I quote), “ever since Dad died, and people called me “strong”, its weird. It’s like people don’t understand the effort it takes to behave normally in the face of grief, in dad’s case, or sheer panic in the case of M…”
The greatest part was, this ex-co-worker of mine is a chatty one. The entirety of her response was, “Wow… this has never happened before. I’m literally speechless.” I sent back many “Hahaha”‘s and she replied, “That’s sooo not funny!” I told her that actually, it was hilarious, and that humour is a much needed remedy to what I’ve been feeling. She accepted that her response was appropriate and we went on our separate ways.

But I knew I had to write about that. Strength in difficult times is a misnomer. I don’t survive each day because I’m strong. I survive because I don’t have another option. It takes a lot of work to function, and being “strong” doesn’t make it easier. I don’t get it. Am I strong because I don’t fall to pieces whenever I think about my fathers absence from my life? Or thinking about the peril that M might and most likely will face? No. I bust my ass to behave normally while processing all of this internally.

Which brings me to another subject.

After Dad died I also used anger to get me through difficult emotions. Lately, surprisingly, and without my notice, I’ve started using apathy. This calm cool exterior that nothing can phase. It certainly doesn’t feel like apathy inside my head or my heart, but I’m actually beginning to fear that I may be giving M the wrong message. Which makes me overcompensate in the areas of affection, and then also anger. The mood swings have been violently shifting between indifference, affection and pissed-the-fuck-off. So much for handling this well…

M and I have both been in a foul mood today. Then M took me out to dinner to cheer me up. I ate poutine. Then I had ice cream. And on top of it I skipped cross fit.
J5 and I were talking about our bad/emotional eating habits on our walk tonight and I said, “another 3 weeks of talking about eating healthier and we might be ready to actually do it!”.

I’m going to let myself slip down this spiral just a little further. And then I’m going to bust my ass to pull myself out with never seen before determination and fury. Give me 3 weeks.

h&v

second last weekend

I inadvertently did a countdown in my head. I’m trying not to think about how much time “we have left” because it’s stressful and morbid and annoying. M leaves on Thursday to head back to the home province to “say goodbye” and whatnot with friends and family. He’ll be back the following Thursday, and leaves that Monday, giving us a whopping 4 days together prior to deployment.

I almost don’t believe it’s happening. It feels just like every other field ex, course, whatever that takes him away from me. I said to him the other night that I’m happy we haven’t been fighting, since that’s what the pre-deployment psychology states is going to happen. He thinks that we’re above all of that and I want to believe him. Part of me thinks that I’m just that good at denial.

We talk constantly about what we will do next year. We’ve already decided that we will drive to the new posting, making our way to Alberta on the first day to stay in Calgary before we head to destination on the prescribed day. He’s said a few times now that he can’t believe he’s leaving in a few days since his heart and mind have already returned from tour. I wonder if that will make this harder on him and I hope not. I’ve been looking forward for the last 9 months or so, since we first got notice that he was going over. I remember refusing to start the countdown to posting at 17 months. Now we’re looking at 8 and I still refuse to start it.

I’m waiting for him to come home safely. I’m waiting for the posting message. I’m waiting for everything to be like it was today, but one year in the future.

I found this helpful. Humour is valuable in my life right now. It will be even more so once M leaves since he’s my main source of entertainment and hilarity.

When I re-read this, it sounds sad to me. It sounds like I’m sad. I’m not. Today was a great day – we cleaned the house together, napped together, went to dinner with friends, laughed a lot, co-existed as usual. He is a good person and we have a great life together. I guess I sound sad because of this fear that it could all end.

I despise and reject the possibility.

h&v