Being Wonder Woman isn't always what it's made out to be...

“Deep down, everyone wants to believe they can be hardcore. But being hardcore isn’t just about being tough. It’s about acceptance. Sometimes you have to give yourself permission to not be hardcore for once. You don’t have to be tough every minute of every day. It’s okay to let your guard down. In fact, there are moments when it’s the best thing you can possibly do… As long as you choose your moments wisely.”

I don’t know about anyone else, but I feel this enormous amount of pressure to appear to be perfect all the time. Like a superhero or something.
I think I’ve got the part down… I mow the grass, edge the driveway/sidewalk, pull weeds, take trash to the dump, clean the house, continue to have dinner parties and company over, visit friends. And all with a smile on my face [relatively speaking].
When friends ask, I smile and say things are great. And yes, he’s gone. Again.
And really, if I’m being honest, I work really hard to make it all seem so easy.

There’s nothing easy about being perfect. Being perfect sucks. Being perfect is 10 times the amount of work you might think.
Most days, I think I do a pretty bang up job of “having it all together”, at being hardcore. Most days, I feel pretty successful in my attempts. But not every day.
Every day, I give myself a pep talk over coffee. I tell myself it’s going to be a good day. I’m going to get a lot accomplished, even if I don’t really have anything pressing to do. I tell myself it’s going to be easy, no big thing… just get through it. It’s just one more day. And then I try to get on with my day, whatever that may actually consist of.

But here’s the thing… even Wonder Woman has a breaking point.
I can only take so many days of smiling and pretending it’s all great. Once I get through my allotted amount of days, I break. It’s really that simple. Something really simple and stupid will happen and I’ll dissolve into a puddle of tears. I do try and choose my moments wisely though. In line at the grocery store isn’t the place for a meltdown when you’re trying so hard to convince everyone that you can do it all and then some.

The job of being the person always left behind isn’t easy. It’s never easy. As much as I hate to quote Army Wives because I can’t stand that show, I caught a preview of an episode in my DVR’d episodes of Grey’s Anatomy  [;-)]… The woman says [in reference to a deployment]: “You never really get used to it, you just get through it.” I haven’t heard anything more true.
I don’t think I’ll ever get used to dropping him off at the airport or watching him drive away knowing he won’t be home that night… but I always get through it. Each separation sucks all by itself whether it’s one week or 24 weeks.

“People ask me how I get through it… I just do. And some days I don’t. Some days I don’t get out of the bed because it’s just easier than trying to smile and convince everyone I’m okay.” At the end of the day, he’s worth it. And that’s really the only thing that matters. Because the truth is if I had it all to do over again, knowing everything that I know now, with the foresight of just how many nights I’d be crawling into bed alone… I’d still choose him.

So, for anyone else that’s going through a separation of any kind…. A TDY, deployment, field training…. It doesn’t matter, they all suck… I write this for you. Know that it’s okay to get upset, it’s okay to cry and it’s okay to wonder if you really can do it. It’s okay, because you can. If we didn’t have our moments of weakness, we’d lose the little pieces of us that make us able to love so wholeheartedly. Moments of weakness aren’t bad.

I once had someone tell me that I wasn’t tough enough to deal with his job, that I was going to get have get a lot tougher to make it through with him and his career. That comment came from one moment of weakness at the beginning of our first deployment. When I told the Mr., he agreed, which really pissed me off. But a couple months later, I had a full on meltdown while talking to him and then apologized saying he wasn’t supposed to see me fall apart. He told me it was his job to be there when I fell apart, even if he’s 8000 miles away. So I reminded him of the aforementioned conversation and how I was told to toughen up. He told me that being tough and being emotionless are two different things. That I was supposed to cry, but then I was supposed to take the time to understand the feelings I was having because that’s what makes you tough.

So, for anyone who’s ever been told to toughen up, that does not mean you’re not allowed to have moments of weakness. You’re entitled to them, really. Just choose your moments wisely and then learn from them. 

just a list

You'll never understand:
… the nights I spend alone.
… the feeling in the pit of my stomach before he deploys.
… the connection I feel when I meet or see someone in the military.
… how strong you are until they are deployed.

I hope you never have to:
... live with your phone on loud wondering if you are going to miss a call.
… wonder if someone is going to knock on your door with bad news.
… wait by the computer to get an email to know that he is alright.

I don’t understand how you can:
… take things for granted with your man.
… look at me and wonder why I am doing this.
… look at me and say that what I am going through is easy.
… complain if your man's phone doesn’t work.

I wish that you could:
… see the PRIDE I have for my man.
… see how HARD it is to watch them walk away.
…  have seen the look on his face when he WALKED AWAY and how hard it was on him.
… LOVE someone with everything you have.

I would do anything:
… in the world to know that he is safe.
… in the world to bring all of our men and women home.
… to make you understand that they did choose to be over there.
… to help you understand it is OKAY to support our troops without supporting the war.

How can you:
… say that we choose this life?
… say that our men are less because of what they are doing over there?
… look at a family with a deployed family member and not feel their pain?
… look at a military member and not thank them?

Death... and courage...

“At the end of the day, the fact that we have the courage to still be standing is reason enough to celebrate."

In the month of June alone, there have already been 42 deaths in Afghanistan, 24 of which were US soldiers and Marines. In the past week 6 of those deaths have affected two people very close to me. While I didn’t know any of them, I’ve found it very hard to get perspective on it all.

I never thought that the war was anything less than real. But it has always been at a distance. It’s not happening on U.S. soil. I haven’t lost any friends to it. No one close to me has really experienced the loss that makes war seem so horrific. Until last week.

Last week, my friend’s husband, lost 3 of his close friends to an IED. His wife is friends with their wives. Exactly a week later, the same friend’s husband lost his best friend to what is being called “hostile fire”.
Not knowing these men doesn’t make it any less sad.
For once, these fallen men aren’t just names on CNN’s casualty report. They’re friends of my friends. They BBQ’d with them on the weekends before the deployment. They spent time with them, got to know them. Watching my friend hurt and cry over the death of her friends’ husbands… It’s gut wrenching.

No one ever told me how I’d be affected when something like this happened. I don’t know any of the men or their wives. I’ve seen their faces on facebook and with articles about their deaths. But somehow, all of this has made the war so much more real to me.

I’ve always realized that death is a possibility because of the Mr.’s job. But somehow I was able to detach myself from that thought… until now. I’ve spent some time thinking, trying to understand what those women are going through, how I would react under the same circumstances and then feeling sick because of it. When I found out about the first casualties last week, I caught myself hugging the Mr. just a little bit tighter when he came home that afternoon. When I found out about the one this week… I’ve caught myself just staring at him, grateful to have him at home and then feeling guilty and so horrible because there are 6 wives who will never get to do that again.

I cannot imagine my life without him in it. So, I can’t even begin to fathom what those women are going through. How they’re even functioning at all. It breaks my heart.

So again, I’m saying thank you… to the soldiers, marines, airmen and sailors who have given their lives in service of our country and to the families they’ve left behind. 

"At the end of the day, the fact that we have the courage to still be standing is reason enough to celebrate."

An Epiphany Not Worth Writing About

Epiphany sounds like such an optimistic word. Some great thing.
It’s really nothing more than a realization of something simple or commonplace. And life’s funny like that… The way things just happen or pop into our minds and the particular things that actually make us have those sudden realizations.

Sitting here this morning, sipping on coffee, catching up on my favorite show, I had an epiphany of my own. It wasn’t happy or optimistic or exciting. It was nothing like that. It was one that broke my heart and brought me to tears.

He’s a soldier. It’s not just what he does, it’s who he is.

I had a rough idea of what he did when we first met. I wasn’t going in blind. I knew and still chose to see where things would go. We had a pretty serious conversation about his job early on in our relationship. My eyes were opened to a lot. And yet, I still chose to stay. I learn something new about his world almost every day.

The clocks in my house read military time and I can speak in acronyms just as well as any soldier. I know more about the Army than some of my friends who have been married to it for years. I’m independent enough to endure all the separations. More often than not, I can do it with a smile on my face. And though I have moments of weakness and become far too emotional, I consider myself to be a strong individual.

Sitting here this morning, I realized that at this point in our short relationship, we’ve been apart more than we’ve actually been together.
I suppose the reality finally hit me…. This is going to be the next 15-20 years of my life.
I knew going in that he wanted a career in the Army.  I knew going in the type of job he had. I knew all this. But I didn’t really.

When he tells certain stories from past deployments, his face lights up. You can see in his eyes that his mind is back in whatever war destroyed city the story took place in. It’s like watching a child talk about their first trip to Disney World. And it’s heart breaking.

The man I love is in love with a job that’s going to kill him.

My greatest fear… and while I have so many fears that rank pretty high on the list… my greatest fear is losing him.

I’ve always thought I’d be alright without a man. That I didn’t NEED one to make me ok. That I didn’t NEED one to get through each day. And I really was just fine on my own… until he came along. I can handle TDY’s and deployments. But the thought of losing him actually takes my breath away and my heart physically ache.

I can’t make it without him.

What a stupid epiphany. And one not even worth writing about.

-------------------------

I'm taking a chance with this one. I wrote this a while back and decided that it's somehow fitting for right now. 

This past week I've talked to 2 friends, both of which told me about casualties to their husbands' units. My friends didn't lose their husbands, but they lost friends. Their husbands lost squad-mates. And yes, a few women have lost their husbands. 

While I don't know any of the soldiers who lost their lives, or their wives for that matter, my friends did and do. And that's enough. 

It's a little reminder that life is precious and shouldn't be taken for granted. When our men make their paychecks serving our country, they do it knowing that at some point they will have to put their lives on the line. 

Loving a man who serves in the military, this is a reality that we all have to acknowledge could be ours at some point. It's scary, makes me sick to my stomach to think about and just plain horrible. But that's the military life. 

And as horrible as the reality can be sometimes, it doesn't make me love him any less. If anything, it makes me love him more. 

Today, take a moment to pause and think about the men and women that give their lives for our country. --I know that was the point of Memorial Day, but I believe this is something that needs to be done often. Take a moment and think about the wives and unborn children who lost their soldiers this week. If you pray, then pray for them. 

Take an extra minute and hug your military man, tell him how much you appreciate him. Let him know how much you care. It's the smallest acts that often mean the most. 

Memorial Day/The Final Inspection

I started writing this post yesterday and got distracted and ran out of time to finish. Better late than never, I suppose.

Today is a day set aside for us to take pause and remember those who have so bravely fought and given their lives for our country. Last year, I had the privilege of visiting Arlington National Cemetery with my soldier and one of his close friends. Walking around Arlington National Cemetery with soldiers in Class A's on either side of me... There really are no words to describes the many feelings that I experienced that day. I feel so blessed to have military people in my life that I do. I feel extremely lucky that I've never had to experience the pain and loss that so many families have.
Memorial Day is one of my favorite holidays. It's an excuse to surround myself with all the amazing people in my life, but it's one holiday that is't just a "Hallmark Holiday". It's a day that calls for remembrance of the lives that have been given for our country. Being that the most important man in my life is a member of our Armed Forces, remembering what's been lost is extremely important to me because loss is a possibility that we face with every deployment. 
In honor of the fallen... I thought this poem was appropriate. 


"The Final Inspection"
Unknown

The Soldier stood and faced God
Which must always come to pass
He hoped his shoes were shining
Just as bright as his brass.

"Step forward you Soldier,
How shall I deal with you?
Have you always turned the other cheek?
To My Church have you been true?"

The Solider squared his shoulders and said
"No, Lord, I guess I ain't
Because those of us who carry guns
Can't always be a saint."

I've had to work on Sundays
And at times my talk was tough,
And sometimes I've been violent,
Because the world is awfully rough.

But, I never took a penny
That wasn't mine to keep.
Though I worked a lot of overtime
When the bills got just to steep,

And I never passed a cry for help
Though at times I shook with fear,
And sometimes, God forgive me,
I've wept unmanly tears.

I know I don't deserve a place
Among the people here.
They never wanted me around
Except to calm their fears.

If you've a place for me here,
Lord, It needn't be so grand,
I never expected or had too much,
But if you don't, I'll understand."

There was silence all around the throne
Where the saints had often trod
As the Soldier waited quietly,
For the judgment of his God.

"Step forward now, you Soldier,
You've borne your burden well.
Walk peacefully on Heaven's streets,
You've done your time in Hell."

The Military Wife

Once again, I'm slacking. The past few days have just been so busy. So here is another one that is not my own. It's a good one though.


Military Wife (Author unknown)

Moving... Moving... Lots of Moving.
Moving far from home.
Moving two cars, three kids and one dog -- all riding with HER of course.
Moving sofas to basements because they won't go in THIS house;
Moving curtains that won't fit;
Moving jobs and certifications and professional development hours.
Moving away from friends;
Moving toward new friends;
Moving her most important luggage: her trunk full of memories.

Waiting... Waiting... Often waiting.
Waiting for housing.
Waiting for orders.
Waiting for deployments.
Waiting for phone calls.
Waiting for reunions.
Waiting for the new curtains to arrive.
Waiting for him to come home, for dinner...AGAIN!

They call her "Military Dependent", but she knows better: She is fiercely In-Dependent.

She can balance a check book;
Handle the yard work;
Fix a noisy toilet;
Bury the family pet...
She is intimately familiar with drywall anchors and toggle bolts.
She can file the taxes;
Sell a house;
Buy a car;
Or set up a move... all with ONE Power of Attorney.

She welcomes neighbors that don't welcome her.
She reinvents her career with every PCS;
Locates a house in the desert, the Arctic, or the deep South.
And learns to call them all "home".
She MAKES them all home.

Military Wives are somewhat hasty.
They leap into:
Decorating,
Leadership,
Volunteering,
Career alternatives,
Churches,
And friendships.
They don't have 15 years to get to know people.
Their roots are short, but flexible.
They plant annuals for themselves and perennials for those who come after them.

Military Wives quickly learn to value each other:
They connect over coffee,
Rely on the spouse network,
Accept offers of friendship and favors.
Record addresses in pencil.

Military Wives have a common bond:
The Military Wife has a husband unlike other husbands;
His commitment is unique.
He doesn't have a "JOB"
He has a "MISSION" that he can't just decide to quit.
He's on-call for his country 24/7.
But for her, he's the most unreliable guy in town!
His language is foreign:
TDY, PCS, OPR, SOS, ACC, BDU, ACU, BAR, CIB, TAD.
And so, a Military Wife is a translator for her family and his.
She is the long- distance link to keep them informed;
the glue that holds them together.

A Military Wife has her moments:
She wants to wring his neck;
Dye his uniform pink;
Refuse to move to Siberia;
But she pulls herself together.
Give her a few days,
A travel brochure,
A long hot bath,
A pledge to the flag,
A wedding picture,
And she goes.
She packs.
She moves.
She follows.

Why?
What for?
How come?
You may think it is because she has lost her mind.
But actually it is because she has lost her heart.
It was stolen from her by a man,
who puts duty first,
who longs to deploy,
who salutes the flag,
and whose boots in the doorway remind her that as long as he is her military husband,
She will remain his military wife.
And would have it no other way.

The Making of a Military Wife

No lie, I've been pretty busy today and haven't had a single moment to stop and think about much of anything... Hopefully, tonight I'll be able to sit down and write, but if not, here's a blog for today. I got this in an email and thought it was too cute not to share!

When the good Lord was creating Wives, he was into his sixth day of overtime.

An angel appeared and said, "You're having a lot of trouble with this one. What's wrong with the standard model?"

And the Lord replied, "Have you seen the specs on this order? She has to be completely independent, but must be sponsored to get on post; have the qualities of both father and mother during deployments; be a perfect hostess to 4 or 40; run on black coffee; handle emergencies without a manual; be able to handle flu, birthdays and moves around the world; have a kiss that can cure anything from a child's torn Valentine to a husband's weary day; have the patience of a saint when waiting for the Unit to return home; and have six pairs of hands."

The angel shook her hand slowly and said, "Six pairs of hands... no way!"

And the Lord answered, "Don't worry, we'll make other military wives to help. Besides it's not the hands that are causing the problem, it's the heart. It must swell with pride in her husband, sustain the ache of separations, beat on soundly when it's too tired to do so and be large enough to say, "I Understand" when she doesn't, and 'I love you' regardless."

"Lord," said the angel, touching his sleeve gently. "Come to bed... finish this tomorrow!"

"I can't," said the Lord. "I'm so close to creating something unique. Already I have one who heals herself when she's sick, can feed three unexpected guests who are stuck in the area due to bad weather, and can wave good-bye to her husband, from a pier, off a runway and understand that it is important to his country that he leaves."

The angel circled the model of the military wife very slowly. "It's too soft," she sighed.

"But tough," said the Lord excitedly. "You cannot imagine what this woman can do or endure."

"Can it think?"

"Can it think? It can convert 1400 to 2 p.m."

Finally, the angel bent over and ran her finger across the cheek. "There's a leak," she pronounced. "I told you that you were trying to put too much into this model."

"It's not a leak," said the Lord. "It's a tear."

"What's it for?" asked the angel.

"It's for joy. Sadness. Disappointment... Pain, loneliness and pride!"

"You are a genius," sighed the angel.

The Lord looked somber and replied, "I didn't put it there."

Being scared means you have something to lose...

The past few weeks have been full of ups and downs. Mental, physical and emotional. I feel like my body has physically healed. I’m back to beating it up with CrossFit workouts daily. Mentally, I think I’m in a better place. I have a better idea of where I stand as an individual, of what I want and what I think I deserve. But, emotionally, well… that’s still a work in progress.

I really can’t put my finger on what started this rollercoaster ride. Just one afternoon not too long ago, I realized just how unhappy I’ve become. I wasn’t sure if this unhappiness was to be blamed solely on me, on him, on his job and the life it creates for us… I wasn’t sure.
I’ve spent a lot of time just thinking about things, talking to a friend and trying to talk through it all, figure out what some of these feelings mean and if they’re solid feelings or merely passing fancies.
I’ve questioned whether or not I have what it takes to be an Army wife. If I really can handle 20 more years of this.  

Today, out of nowhere, as I was walking across the Wal-Mart parking lot, it just hit me. I don’t want to be simply civilian. I’m not saying being a civilian is a bad thing. But it just seems so simple, so commonplace in comparison to what my life has been revolving around. That realization alone was enough to make feel like yes, I really can do this. I really do have the strength necessary to support a man in his position. I really can do all the waiting.

My Wal-Mart parking lot epiphany was enough to silence all the doubts that I’ve been having the past few weeks. It was enough to make me realize that my unhappiness is a “me” thing. Taking him out of the picture would only add to that unhappiness. So, it’s not him, his job or our lifestyle. Which means it’s something I should be able to tackle and fix on my own, without leaving him, but with his help. All of this gives my heart so much peace.
My mind of course followed that initial thought: that I didn’t want to be simply civilian. Why not? Why wouldn’t I want to be with a man who’s home every night in time for dinner, who doesn’t have to worry about missing 9 months at a time out of his children’s lives, who doesn’t risk his life to do his job? Why wouldn’t I want that? Because of the pride. Yes, pride. I take a lot of pride in saying that I belong to a soldier. A simple explanation of his job lets anyone with a brain know that he’s not your common G.I Joe. This only adds to that pride.
He loves his country enough that he’s willing to sacrifice his life for it if necessary. And nothing was good enough until he was the best. He’s the best at everything he does. Right now, he’s in a school … and he’s not the best and it just infuriates him. He’s one of “those”.

So, why would I want to be with a man who works long hours, who leaves for weeks at a time for schools and training, who deploys to war torn countries for months at a time, who puts his life on the line every time he actually does his job? Because anyone can take the easy way and find an accountant or doctor or whatever… Because anyone can deal with a few week long business trips a year. Anyone can do the civilian life. But not just anyone can handle the military life.
It takes so much patience and courage and flat out strength to love a man who wears the uniform that defends our country.
I am so proud to be one of those women who stand beside one of those men.

I’ve also realized that it’s okay to have doubts. It’s okay to be scared. It’s normal. If you’re not scared, you’re lying or dead. And being scared means you have something to lose. So I’m okay with it. 

Adjust Your Expectations

 “I know... I know you didn’t wake up this morning expecting this was how your first day was gonna go. You thought you’d get to re-attach an arm or observe brain surgery; instead you helped save the life of a deer. You can bitch and complain about it, or you can adjust your expectations. 'Cause like it or not, you are stuck with me and I’m the kind of doctor who lets little kids convince her she can do the impossible. Oh! Plus, when I woke up this morning, I thought today was gonna go a lot differently too. I thought I was gonna get the good interns. Instead, I get stuck with the duds! So I'll have to adjust my expectations as well.”

Here’s the thing… expectations… they always let you down. And military life is the epitome of let downs. It’s very rare that things actually go according to the ORIGINAL plan. Plans have to change about 50 times before things actually happen. I’m starting to think that’s some kind of unwritten military law or something.
I don’t like change; I don’t like having to be flexible. I don’t like uncertainty. But all three of those things are at the very top of the list of the things that you get with the military.
Today, I found out about a change of plans. I won’t lie; my first reaction was to cry about it. I’d come to terms with the original way things were supposed to go. I wasn’t really happy about it, but I was dealing. But this new change, I really don’t like it. The feeling in the pit of my stomach got a little worse when I took a minute and realized that this exact thing is going to continue for the next 20 years—pause for effect—of my life. TWENTY YEARS. I hate when things like that sink in and then suddenly they feel so much heavier than before.
I’ve been trying really hard to find a silver lining for this new change. Especially when I sat down at the computer and realized I haven’t posted anything here in about 5 days. I really wanted to post something motivational or uplifting or something on a bit of a happier note than what I have posted.
So, here’s my silver lining: every time something like this comes up, I have to take pause and adjust my expectations. While this new change means another month apart, I’m excited to see what I can accomplish in that month. I just got back into working out—and I had to take a giant leap backwards due to my injury. I feel like I can accomplish a lot in that month physically. I’ve got a list a mile long of all these things I’ve been wanting US to do in and around the house. My new challenge is to see just how much of that list I can do on my own.
Is it the perfect solution? No. There is a great deal of disappointment that comes with change. With not getting what you expected. But here’s the thing expectations… they always let you down. 

Behind every soldier...

Behind every soldier… there is a girl.
She is with him in heart and soul.
She goes through everything that he goes through.
She feels his pain, his sorrow, his joy, his longing and his devotion.
Every minute they are apart her heart aches, but she smiles.
She is a model for other girl. They watch her and wonder, “How does she do it?”
She is the picture of everlasting love and fidelity to her soldier, his cause and their country.
She is his rock, his support, his best friend and his lover.
Her job is the hardest and most painful thing she knows.
It is also by far the most rewarding.
Their relationship will weather storms, cross miles and reach indescribable heights.
Not because of who they are, but because of the love that they share. A love that is patient, honest, true and kind. A love that transcends the distance, that is deeper than any ocean, more abundant than all the stars in the sky. It is a love that is perfect in all its flaws.
Behind every soldier… there is a girl.
I am that girl.

I’m sitting here in my kitchen, staring out across the vastness of my backyard. The rain has been pouring for the past 20 minutes or so. My yard has turned into a jungle. It needed mowing a week ago. Sitting here, I feel like I can actually see the grass growing and I just want to cry. Up until now, dealing with his absence was tolerable. Ok, even. I’ve learned that sometimes a little space can be a very good thing. It keeps me from taking him for granted and makes me appreciate him so much more when he is here.
But today, his absence hurts. Physically, emotionally. I’ve got an injury preventing me from being the super self-sufficient person I usually am, especially when he’s gone. I can’t do much of anything. And of course, I don’t have it in me to ask for help. I just keep hoping tomorrow will be a better day. Except, I’m not getting better, just frustrated…
I think even worse than being so completely frustrated is not wanting to tell him how I’m feeling. He’s trying to study and focus on this stupid school. –Ok, It’s not stupid. It’s something he needs. But today, in all my frustration, it’s stupid.
My mind, of course, wanders to the future and all the separations to come. We’ve already spent more time apart than together.

People ask me how I do it. How I deal with him always being gone. It’s simple: I just do. I get up, I put on a smile & I try to remember that it’s temporary. But some days… I don’t. Some days I just stay in the bed because that’s easier than pasting on a smile & pretending it’s okay. Most people try to understand this. But the few that ACTUALLY get it, well, they drag my ass out of bed for Mexican food and margaritas.

Today, I’m sitting here in my kitchen, watching it rain, feeling completely helpless because I’m not able to do the things I need to. And I’m angry. Why did this have to happen the day he left? Why can’t it just get better so I can get on with my life?
I’m mad at the Army for sending him to this school. I’m mad that he had to drive 8 hours to get there and couldn’t stay with me. I’m mad that it took DAYS to figure out what was really wrong with me. I’m mad that I’m not getting better. I’m mad that my neighbors aren’t telepathic and haven’t already mowed my yard for me. I’m mad that he starts another school a week after he gets home from this one.
Today, I’m just mad. But I have to keep reminding myself that I can make it without him. That I will get better and I will get things done. I’ll get through this.
And as I sit here, mad, I ask myself one question: Is he worth it?
Yes. A thousand times, yes. There is no other answer.