Chosen by a Book

Have you ever felt kinship to a book—your body, heart, and soul propelling you to devour every word because you feel like you are reading the truths of your own life spelled out on paper? That’s how I felt when I picked up Chosen by a Horse by Susan Richards.  In the book, Susan talks about how the unexpected adoption of an abused horse named Lay Me Down inspires her to overcome years of emotional neglect as a child, an abusive marriage, and destructive behavior to find the courage to love others again, and, most importantly, love herself again. (Though I know I should technically call her Richards, I can’t—her writing is so open and honest, that I can’t help but feel I know her). Chosen by a Horse was Susan’s first published book, and she followed it up with Saddled and Chosen Forever. Saddled is about how Georgia, the mare that Susan adopted, helped Susan pull through clinical depression and alcoholism, to finding her family. I read the book in less than twelve hours, and read the other two books equally as quickly.  I didn’t like Chosen Forever as much. Perhaps because it wasn’t as centered on the horses as the other two were, perhaps because Susan falls in love in the book, and I’m shying away from anything romantic these days, perhaps because some of her scenes take place on Little Cranberry Island, near the island that I spent a week with Apache’s mom last summer, and where he and I vacationed this winter. That wound is still too fresh.

It sounds cheesy, but reading these books about Susan coming to discover the truths of her own strengths and weaknesses has helped me to see my own truths. I’m learning, slowly, day by day to spend the time I have on this earth doing things because they make me feel good inside, not because they might convince other’s to like me. I’ve been trying to buy love from people, in a way, because I truly do feel, though I know it’s wrong, that I won’t be loved any other way. But looking back over the past 25 years of my life, and the past five years of relationships, the three men that I tried to “buy” with my steadfast devotion are gone. Trevor and Apache refuse to speak with me, and Jay is happy in his own relationship with DogFace. I’ve chosen relationships with broken men, hoping that once I saved them from the demons that haunt them, they would love me unconditionally the way I cared for them.

It’s time to love myself; to stop putting so much effort into finding love of another, and into loving myself. As Susan writes in Chosen Forever: When you're doing what you're supposed to be doing in this life, amazing things can happen."

So here I am, doing what I want to do because I want to do it. For me, that means spending time with Magic. Last week, since Hurricane Irene had knocked out power to most of my area and the start of school was delayed—I spent most of my unexpected time off at the barn. I hauled hay and water, rode Magic, relaxed in the hammock hung from two oak trees just outside his paddock. On the first day, after the horses had been couped up for 48 hours inside, Sin and I trucked the horses down to the 50 acre pasture. I took of Magic’s halter and watched as the herd of six Arabians galloped across the paddock, stretching their stiff legs, out of sheer joy at having once again having the freedom to run. That’s how I feel now. Free from the drama of keep a relationship alive with someone that thought nothing of disrespecting me and casting me aside. Free from the shame of staying so long. Free from the countless hours I wasted catering to him and mourning him.

I’ve owned Magic, raised him for five years this weekend, and he changed me in a way that no one else has. Owning Magic means that I have to sacrifice some of the frivolities that other women my age have. There are no weeknight bottles of wine, or Friday/Saturday nights at the club.  And that’s okay. Because Magic has been there for me through the worst moments of my life. The night that Trevor yanked my engagement ring off my finger, and went to his mother’s, never to once again sleep in the home that we had made together, I slept in Magic’s stall. Huddled beneath a horse blanket ontop of a thick bed of sawdust, I never once questioned my safety. Magic was there the summer I had the abortion. I saw him every day that summer, and he brought me back from a dark place I hoped I never would see again. And he was there for me through what Apache did to me, and this summer helped to remind me of who I was before, and who I still am today.

Some people disagree that animals can love, and I challenge them on that. There’s no other explanation for the way that animals act with “their” people. How Magic breaks away from the herd to join me near the fence when he sees me, or my cat, Spooky, snuggles onto my chest when I’m laying in bed, purring so hard his drool wets my pajamas. He is a shy cat, and doesn’t act like that with anyone else that he’s known almost as long, people who are as eager to pet him. Nope it’s me he prefers. If only human males could remember the loyalty that their feline and equine counterparts displayed.

 Part of being free again means that I have mental space. My phone is quiet now. When Apache was in Afghanistan, we emailed back and forth constantly. I saved every email, in case the unthinkable happened. 6,000 emails in the nine months that he was there, not including the hundreds of instant messages that we shared whenever he was able to get on the computer. I still have those emails and conversations. His body may have come back from the desert, but the man I loved, he died out there. I’ve come to accept that. 

I’ve come to be okay with the quiet. I’ve stopped watching (most) television. I’ve started reading again. Today I started (and finished) The Help by Kathryn Stockett. It was an amazing book, about 1960s Mississippi, told from the perspective of three women:  one a young, white woman and two different African American women. The book, the author’s first, reminded me of E.L. Doctorow’s novels. Doctorow is one of my favorite authors—his story “Child, Dead in a Rose Garden” still haunts me.  “There is no history except as it is composed. There are no failed revolutions, only lawless conspiracies,” Doctorow writes in an essay called “False Documents,” about how history is not absolute truth, because it is written by those in power, to benefit themselves, to cast themselves in the best light. His books, such as Ragtime, The Book of Daniel, and The March, write about history from the perspective of the underdog—the characters that have been written out of or vilified in history.  

A major part of being free means that right now, I’m not dating. I’m not sleeping with men. I’m not even dabbling on dating sites. I’ve been hurt, badly, but yet I’ve felt this tremendous pressure to quickly find someone to replace Apache in my bed and heart because it would take the attention off of how much I’m hurting, and, perhaps, prove a point to him, if he asked about me. Maybe one day he’ll come to his senses, I’ve fantasized, and ask our mutual friends or his family, that I still talk to, about me. Aurora is incredibly happy with her new, handsome successful man, they’d say, shaking their heads. And he would feel the sting of pain that I felt, and realize Damn, I lost the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I didn’t realize what I had when I had her, and someone else did. But that’s all it is, fantasy. He will never again ring my phone, email me, or Facebook request me. Or if he does, it’ll be long past the time when I really want to hear from him. The sooner I accept that, rip off the remnants of this relationship like an old band aid, the better.

Even though I’m lonely, and wake up in the nights feeling cold because there’s no one beside me, I want to be alone. The wound is still healing. I think that’s why I’ve gained weight in the past four months (!) since our breakup. I don’t want to be attractive to men. Not yet. That’s hard. So many people try to fix me up with their friends, cousins, coworkers. But I’m not ready. People around here look at me funny when I say that. Not wanting to get married is considered a sin. In my town, it’s strange to see a 25 year old that’s not married or having children.

I’m working on combating the obstacles towards losing weight. I’m being more conscious about the hidden calories in things, and finding low cal alternatives for my favorite foods. I baked Weight Watchers Pumpkin Spice muffins (2 points!) to substitute for the 600 calorie monster, and found pumpkin-flavored coffee beans that are calorie free. My biggest hurdle to face is eating at night. Since Apacheleft for Afghanistan, and more so since our breakup, I’ve been sleepwalking to the fridge to eat. I know it’s an anxiety issue, and I’ve made an appointment with my therapist and APRN about medication. Hoping we’ll get it under control. I’ve promised myself that I’m going back to the gym this weekend.

I’m hoping that my life is on the up and up, dear reader. Tell me, what book (movie/tv show) that has made you take a good hard look at the truths of your own life?

Ten On Tuesday #1

1. What is your favorite brand of shoes?


Flip flops- Reefs

Party Heels-     I can't wear them for very long because they HURT my feet, but Baker's, Carlos by Carlos Santana, Nine West, or Jessica Simpson.  

Work Heels: Naturalizer

Boots: Naturalizer or Nine West


2. How old were you when you learned to tie your shoes?

I think kindergarten or first grade. Normal age, I guess.


3. How do you feel about freckles?

Freckles in and of themselves don't bother me. But I kinda have a policy against redheads, especially named Jen, and they all had freckles. It's not a stereotype, I've had three seperate MAJOR issues with psycho redheads named Jen. One of them trained my horse and tried to convince me that he was crazy and I should give him to her. NOT true.  One of them was married, and slept with my boyfriend (Jay) while her husband (Apache) was at boot camp. And I dated Apache, and he wouldn't divorce her, so she was always the white elephant in the room.  And Apache cheated on me with the third redhead. So I have cause.  If you're a redhead named Jen, I'm sure you're a great person. But I'm sure we wouldn't be good friends. We'd probably end up hating each other. Just sayin'.

4. I can count to ten in ___ languages.

Two. English and Spanish.

5. What is your favorite store-bought ice cream flavor?

I love Maine Black Bear by Gifford's of Maine. Yum! It's vanilla ice cream with raspberry swirl and dark chocolate candies filled with raspberry. Yum!

6. Were you in ballet or gymnastics as a little girl?

No :-( I always wanted to do dance as a child, but my parents said no. I don't know if it was because I was overweight or because my parents didn't have enough money for classes. I'm not sure. Nevertheless, let's add dance classes to the list of things I'll do differently when/if I'm a parent.

7. Who is your favorite Sesame Street character?

Big Bird!!!  His puppeteer lives locally, and I've met him a few times.  I've always liked Big Bird though, even as a child. When I was entering kindergarten, my parents gave me the choice of attending the public elementary school or a Catholic one. Too young to understand the dogmatic differences, I chose public because they had Big Bird painted on the wall outside of the classrooms. 

8. What’s your bedtime?

Whenever I feel tired. It's usually around 11. I've resolved to be in bed by 10 starting tonight.


9. Do you have any jewelry that you wear every single day?

I wear my claddagah every day and a pair of silver hoops.


10. Who is the bug killer in your household?

Spooky. He's constantly on the hunt for them. He keeps the condo pretty bug free, so I guess I can keep him.


Want to try your own Ten on Tuesday? Visit Roots & Rings

So what happened? (a long post)

2 1/2 months out from the break up and after about 1 month of NC (no contact), I think I'm finally ready to tell you all about what happened.... without writing an entry that sounds like I'm vomiting emotions.

As followers of this blog know, I was dating a deployed United States soldier, who I refer to as Apache. Apache and I had, at least I thought we had, this amazing relationship that was able to survive a year-long deployment. We had discussed plans for moving in together, having children, the whole thing. I was completely and blindly in love with him, and thought that we could outlast anything. I knew that coming home he would have his own challenges reintegrating into society and dealing with PTSD. I resolved myself to stay by his side and help him through it all.

He came home in November 2010, and I knew things were different, immediately. He pulled away, and I watched as this close relationship we had fell apart. In January 2011, I found out that he had cheated on me with a girl he had been deployed with, and apparently he slept with her several times since he had come home. I confronted him, and we broke up. Two weeks later, he called saying how much he missed me and how much he had fucked up. We got back together.

We went through several on and off periods, usually when I found out that he had been sleeping with someone else. Why did i take him back? Because the army therapist i had been seeing kept telling me that this was "normal" for someone who had been deployed to act when he got home. So each time I confornted him about his infidelity, he would break up with me, and I would tell him "I love you. I'm here when you're ready." Two weeks later, he'd be back.

The last break up happened in May. It was the anniversary of his friend's death in Afghanistan, and he was going to the bar with friends. He had told me he was going to be getting extremely drunk, and I had told him I would pick him up whenever he wanted to go home. He never called, and when I checked his facebook the next day, I found out he had was extremely drunk and emotional, met this girl, told her his entire life story, and she took him and his roommate home, and he invited her out to dinner. I confronted him on it, and we broke up.


He didn't miss a beat and began seeing her. In fact, three days after the breakup, he told a mutual friend that "she made him believe in relationships again". WHAT?!?! He and I had broken up so many times that I didn't take the breakup seriously. There had been other girls, but he had come back to me. It makes me wonder how many of those other girls rejected him...I know at least one did.

Confronted by the reality of just how little respect for me he apparently has, I lost it. My ex wanted me to just fade silently into the background. I was angry and demanded explanations from him. We had been on and off so many times, that I didn't go no contact (NC). I carried on like nothing was wrong which had worked during push-pull before. And when I found out that he was going on a date with this girl, I was extremely intoxicated and resorted to the one thing I knew would hit him below the belt: I told him I was pregnant and that I was having an abortion. At the time, i wanted to make him hurt for all the times he had betrayed me & lied to me, humiliated me, and all the hurt I had endured since he had come home, after I had supported him through EVERYTHING he had gone through before, during, and after deployment. After I sobered, and realized what I had done, I came clean to him.

I still talked to him, and he would respond back to me... it was strained, but I was used to him needing a break, especially when he was stressing about something else in his life. I resolved to just give him time to come back.

A week after the breakup, I went to Washington DC with my students, and two things happened while I was gone. 1, a mutual friend of ours was struck by lightening and was listed in the newspaper as critical condition. 2. My doctor called me because they suspected a lump I had found in my breast the week before was cancerous. I contacted him for both those things, to see how his friend was, and to get support from him. He told me that his friend was okay, and told me he was sorry I was going through everything.

A week later, someone with a vaguely familiar name friended me on facebook. I accepted the friend request, and sent her a message asking how I knew her. While I was waiting for a response, I started browsing through her pictures. I found a pic of Apache and the new girl. The person who had friended me was her cousin. Right about that time, the girl sent me a message saying she thought I went to college with her. I sent another message back, telling her that didn't need the drama she was trying to bring, that dealing with the breakup was hard enough. She responded back that she didnt know what I was talking about...that my Apache had told the new girl that he had been broken up with me for months because I was "psycho." I responded back that she was sorely mistaken, we had been dating the night he had met her, and the new gf called me (my cell # was on FB). She was, at first, extremely sweet and apologetic, and said that she had no idea that he had a gf, and she would back off immediately. She must have confronted him. Apache texted me and told me how I had "ruined his life. And he never wanted to talk to me again." GREAT.

After that, I began receiving harassing messages from her. I really think that she had her cousin friend me to start drama between my ex and I to push us farther apart, and it worked. I didn't respond to her, and tried to keep my distance from him. After a month or so, I realized he was not coming back anytime soon, and a family friend of his told me that he had borderline personality disorder and sent me this link about how the BPD relationship starts. It was the perfect pattern of how our relationshp had started, and how his other relationships had been. I just wanted my things back, and would text him once a week or so to get my things back. She would respond every time from her phone-- acting extremely nasty, telling me how pathetic I am. Apparently, my ex is making me out to be the persecutor, and triangulating in earnest. I refused to engage with her, and wouldn't respond.

A month ago, I called him and left a phone message about my things. This launched a volley of threats and accusations from her. And then he called me back, with her screaming in the background, calling me all sorts of names and daring me to fight her. I had had it. I'm tired of being made to feel like I'm psycho for having developed anxiety/depression as a result of being in this relationship or pathetic for still loving someone I had been with for two years, and supported through a horrific deployment. Her words stung, and I grabbed my keys, and started driving the hour towards her house. My cousin, recognizing that I was about to get myself into a heap of legal/physical trouble, had her state police friends pull me over. I showed the troopers the messages from her, and they said that they would get involved.

A few days later, I got some nasty messages from my Apache about how ridiculous I was being for having the police involved to get my things back--things that I didn't need. I told him that it was not up to him to decide, and that I wanted to come get my things, or I would show at this house with a trooper. He said that I was "stalking" and "harassing" him (I had texted him only three or four times, and have purposely stayed away from the city he lives in.) And that he never wants to see or talk to me again, and if he does he would have the police involved. But I got my things back the next day.

Then, a week or so after, I get a message from the cousin:: "I'm not trying to get in the middle nut it's time for you to move on. Did you forget that I'm a nurse!? This breast ca bs is bogus. A dear friend and coworker of mine recently died suddenly of an undiagnosed cancer. It makes me sick to my stomach to think some one would use that to draw attention to themselves. I think it's time for you to move on and leave well enough alone. "

What the hell??!?!? I've said nothing to my ex since last week, why this? why now? the cancer was not made up, though luckily the operation I had two weeks ago to remove the lump came back negative for cancer. Thank God. But I wasn't about to call him and tell him that...

I blocked her on FB, and didn't respond. I'm not stupid. I know she's fishing for a reaction that she can use to make my exBPDbf even more upset with me. It makes me wonder, though, about how happy their relationship is. If it was the "perfect" relationship, she wouldn't feel the need to be this possessive or aggressive. Right?

Then today, I get a message from the girlfriend. Apparently, my facebook unblocked her last night (and I have to wait 48 hours to block her again): "Yes we are still together. You can quit stalking me. I can see when u block and unblock me. FYI."

I have half a mind to message back, but I do NOT need this shit. I want the drama to be OVER. All of this, is high school shit. I'm on the road to getting better, to finally letting him go and moving on. I have to focus on me, and do what needs to be done.

Summer Harvest

I am in love:

I have always loved fruit. But Raspberries and Blackberries were, for some reason, a fruit I never could get into. My friend and "surrogate mother" at work offered me some raspberries a month ago that she had lightly sprinkled with Truvia, since Splenda is made with chlorine.  I tentatively popped a raspberry and a blackberry in my mouth:

LOVE

So now I cannot get enough of fresh raspberries and blackberries. I could eat a container of them a day.

Unfortunately, raspberries are currently retailing for $4.50 for a half-pint. Blackberries are $2.99. Still cheaper and much healthier than a pack of cigarettes, but nonetheless not so good on the pocketbook. I'm gong to go on a raspberry hunt today to see if the local orchards are selling them for cheaper.

Having dreams about making this champagne cocktail when Apache comes home.


What are your favorite summer foods?

I want...

I SHOULD be working on grad school work right now, BUT my brain feels quite a bit scattered (it must the impending presence of Hurricane Earl) so I need to do a "brain dump" in the form of a blog post before I get down to business.

Me-- On my 5th Birthday

On October 11, I will be turning 25.And while I am not happy about being a quarter of a century old, I am happy about passing one more "checkpoint" to November 7 and Apache's homecoming. The only way I've been able to get through these months is by focusing on smaller pieces and making it to each one. Starting school again was one of the checkpoints, which I did this Monday. Now, I'm focusing on the month until my birthday when I can officially begin the countdown to his arrival in the States.

Focusing on my birthday has led me to focus on one thing. Birthday presents.  So this is a me-me of all the things that I would love to find wrapped up in blue paper with silver bows beside some chocolate covered strawberries.

1. 2011 Mustang GT 5.0    Except in silver, please. Thanks :-)   I've always wanted a Mustang convertible since I was young. When I bought my car in 2009, I was with Trevor and the insurance would have been outrageous. Now that almost 25 and dating a man, not a little boy, I could quite possibly buy one. So, I would love one of these with a blue bow in my drive way on my birthday.

2. Keurig Coffee Machine - I love coffee and tea. I rarely drink it cause I HATE making it. So I would love to have one of these puppies in my classroom to have some green tea whenever I want.

3. T&Co Horse shoe Good luck charm & chain.   A horseshoe. from Tiffany. 'Nuff said.


4. A bouquet of sunflowers. Apache better come through on this. I LOVE getting flowers, and have NEVER been with a guy who thought enough of me (apparently) to give me flowers on my birthday. My lovelies got me a gorgeous bouquet of sunflowers for my birthday last year, but I want them from my man. damnit. I want romance. I know he's capable of sending flowers since I know he sent DogFace some on her birthday last year. Keeping my fingers crossed.

5.  Tack Classic boots by The Original Muck Boot Company- High Cut- size 7.5.  Having a horse in a New England winter and spring is cold, muddy business. And while Wal-Mart sells those lovely colorful welly boots, they are useless keeping your feet warm in the snow. These boots are amazing in mud and muck, and I want them! AND they come in hot pink or purple. <3

6. So if I get the aforementioned bouquet of flowers, I might consider purchasing this lovely number to help welcome Apache home.

7. My customized Reebok Easy Tone sneakers. Size 7.5

8. Tiffany Bead Earrings -- To match the necklace I already have.  <3

Didja miss me?

I'm back!  The past few months have been a whirlwind of grad school, summer plans, gym appointments, and horse riding. I'm sorry for the hiatus-- I needed some time to figure some things out.

So, what's new with you all? I'll tell you what's new with me:

1.  Apache & I are back together... it took a few days of separation to realize that neither one of us want to live without each other. We spent two days together before he left and we've talked every day since. Things are actually better after the "fight," as I've deemed it. His relationship with DF is undeniably over, and he is filing when he gets back. And that's something he's told her (i've seen the emails), his family, and me. He's removed her from the death benefits, and had it arranged to go to his family. He had her removed from his accounts (according to his sister and dad as well).  He has been much more forward with his family about what we are to each other-- his parents, sister, and aunt have all commented about how much Apache has talked about me and how important I am to his life. He's encouraged me to visit them, and his mother invited me to Maine for a week starting next week....And we are moving in together when he gets home-- his idea.

Trust me, dear readers, that I have put him through his paces-- he was not immediately allowed back in and he's given me every reason to believe that this is what he wants.

2. I hired a personal trainer & I'm working on dropping weight... I've lost 12 since the middle of June, and I'm hoping to lose 25 lbs by my 25th birthday (October 11)... and then hopefully 40 by the end of November (when APACHE comes HOME for GOOD!!!!) :-D

I'm sorry for the lame post, but consider it a warm up before your irreverant Aurora returns! I'm glad to be back!

Reasons why texting is evil

One of the worse things about this whole deployment thing is having to develop and sustain a relationship through email. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm totally grateful to be able to communicate with Apache pretty much constantly, rather than waiting for weeks for a letter- the whole thing is a double edged sword.

Some of the main problems:

* Freepin' IMPOSSIBLE to determine someone's mood over texts. For instance, yesterday Apache sent me short, one line emails (we use email as texting) and so me-being-me, I take it as I am annoying him and he doesn't want to talk to me anymore. But short texts don't always mean that. It could mean (as I discovered upon asking him if he was sick of me) that he's tired, frustrated (not with me), or suppossed to be working (he does this often). HOW are you suppossed to determine any of those things over text as you would from seeing someone's face or hearing someone's voice.  You can't.

Note: please don't be commenting telling me that he really is trying to break up with me, because I know he's not since I got two seperate messages while I was asleep (during his day) that said how much he loved and missed me. So there *sticks tongue out*

* Same goes for silences. Suddenly the conversation stops dead in its tracks. Oh No! I think Did I say something wrong?!  Maybe this is me--I've been trained by Trevor and Jay to assume all silences are the silent treatment. OR I think he's spending his time talking to other girls, like DogFace, or some girls on base because some bitch  woman told me she hoped he didn't cheat on me while he was in Afghanistan. Thanks for introducing that thought into my already worried head. However, with Apache being deployed, it could be he's being spun up, suddenly got busy, fell asleep, or the cell phone service went down. again. And I feel like I'm holding a reciever, listening to empty silence going "Hello? Hello? Helllllllo? Helloooooo?"

* Or how about miscommunications. You know, those things that you say meaning to be a joke, but don't get taken as a joke? Yup, happens all the time to me. For instance yesterday Apache and I were discussing meeting at the airport, and he was talking about how he hopes I'll be wet when pick him up. And I was like "of course. hope you're still attraced to me."  I meant it as a self-effacing joke. And he was like "I really wish you wouldn't say shit like that to me." Annnnnnnnd then he fell asleep. So I panicked thinking he was mad at me, giving me the silent treatment. He wasn't mad (he sent me an email in the middle of our night to tell me so).

I guess, I'm just frustrated because I didn't really get to talk to him much today, and I started off the day thinking he didn't want to talk to me, and then found out his cell service was acting funny. I'm sure it's just a mood, and I'll wake up to a text from him telling me that he loves me, but it still makes me wicked anxious.

Maybe I should go back on Wellbutrin for anxiety.... hmm..

Broken Glass

When I was a child, my Memere had a candy dish that once belonged to her grandmother. Made of beautiful Beleek China, the candy dish adorned the table at parties and holidays. One day when I was a young teenager, Memere dropped the candy dish after she lovingly washed it. This piece of china, with its tiny, hand painted shamrocks, had survived the trip to America aboard a steamer from Ireland. Now, in America, it lay in tiny, shattered pieces across the floor.

Memere didn't try to pick the pieces up and glue them back together, even though the whole held so many memories for her. She knew, as we should know, that once it's broken it's always going to be broken, and it's better to accept that than to hurt yourself trying to piece it back together.

It's the same with relationships. Why do people insist on holding onto relationships that are not just cracked, but broken. Is it out of nostaliga or a longing for the once perfect past? Is it a fear of being alone? Is it out of guilt that we somehow had a hand in their undoing?

I'm dealing with this with Apache now. He is at a very confused place in his life. DogFace has him fully convinced, it seems that he is to blame for her infidelity, because he left her alone to go to boot camp. She also has convinced him that Jay, who she is living with as his girlfriend, deserves just as much blame. So Apache lives in this state of pereptual guilt, both fully believing that he is to blame, and also recognizing how incredibly illogical this guilt is, which makes him feel even worse about himself because he can't seem to rip himself away. He talks about taking revenge on Jay when he comes home-- about making him pay for all the pain he has caused. Yet, he can't doesn't want to make DogFace atone for her sins, by cutting her off and divorcing her. Yes, you read that right, Apache has not yet filed for divorce, and refuses to even think about such a thing while he's on deployment because he feels he has too much to deal with in country. He knows he has to make a decision, and since meeting me, his decision is complicated. When we first met, he was saying he was going back to her no matter what. Now, at least, he's doubting if he can trust her again (ugh, no!) and if he should be with me. His decision is no longer clear.

And DogFace is a master manipulator. Here she is, living with Jay, and parading around at his girlfriend. The only people that do not know about her new relationship are her family, who live in Utah. Her Facebook (because of her Mom) still says she's married. There are NO pictures of her and Apache on there, though, and there are some of her and Jay. Yet, she tells C that she is not sure what she wants. That she still loves him. That she still thinks about growing old with him. Yet, she's telling Jay the SAME THING.

And he's with me. He calls me his girl to his buddies and they know details about me. I've met his parents, sister, and extended family. He texts me non stop when he can. He talks about a future with me, about what it would be like to do all these things together both when he comes home on leave and when he comes home for good.

I know you all think I'm pretty stupid for sticking around in this situation. And I'm not going to argue with you. The thing is though, other than this situation, it feels pretty damn perfect. I love him, especially for this situation because I wish that someone (Trevor) would have fought that hard for me a year ago, and he loves me too. He's not the type of person to say something he does not mean, so I am not doubting him on his feelings there. I love his family, who are amazingly normal and wonderful to have in my life. I love how he supports me. I love how much fun we have together. I love how I am a stronger person because of him. If you asked me a year ago, if I could have handled dating someone who is not only on the other side of the world, but is in the line of fire, I would have laughed in your face. Solitude is never something that I am good at. For Apache, though, I'm willing to wait however long it takes to be with him.

Do I walk away? Right now, I'm saying no. All that shows him is what he already thinks. That being with him is too difficult. But I am not selfish, and I am a figher till the last bell sounds my victory or defeat. Maybe this will shatter in my hands, I'll end up cut-- but at least I'll have the memories.

I left Ken for GI Joe

"Shit, gotta go, getting spun up, I love you. I'll email you later, baby," Apache typed.

"I love you too. Be Safe." I typed back, blowing him a kiss as he shut of the web cam.

"Don't worry. I'll be fine. later baby."

Saturday began in a rather idyllic fashion. I woke up to some texts from Apache, who was online. We FINALLY got our web cam to work and got to chat for a few hours like that. Being able to see his face makes me feel so much better, and it is hysterical to listen to the guys goof off in the background. On the plus side, it's mad cute to hear Apache told the guys about something funny "his girl said". It makes me feel really secure to know that the boys know about me-- they even know details, like I'm a teacher and I have a horse. Apache's closest buddy, MB, even calls me "the future wifey." LMAO.

Apache was on QRF duty-- QRF stands for Quick Reactive Force. In essence, he and his crew are back up in case a mission encounters problems.

He's gotten "spun up"-- sent out on missions-- before and returned home without making any contact with the natives. So, I didn't think much of it and got dressed, took care of Magic, and went shopping at Target for the rest of the things to include in his birthday box.

A few hours later, I got an email from him, "We're back. Contact Made" and my blood ran cold.

I mean, I knew that it would happen. He's not on a vacation in Afghanistan. He's cautioned me against asking too many questions that I dont really wanna know the answers to.

Before dating Apache, I was pacifist. Not for the war, but not against the soldiers that are fighting it since I know so many of them who joined to make a better lives for themselves. And dating Apache has cemented a very strong belief in me. I don't care what he has to do as long as he comes home safe.... I hold NOTHING he does over there against him.

The idea that he's in harms way scares me more than the idea of him going back to DogFace. I could pretend that he was on vacation as long as his QRFs came and went without incident. Now,I feel like there's a perpetual lump in my throat and I can't quite catch my breath. Since he sleeps during what is my afternoon, I spend that time worrying about him.  Thank God for the miracle of Internet and cell phones, cause if I had to wait weeks between letters, I would be a hot mess.

I wonder if Apache knew it would be like this and that's why he introduced me to his family. Being able to email his sister, aunt, mom, and dad really help. His sister even is a devout reader of this blog (*waves*) and you can thank her for the many updates lately cause she is constantly reminding me to update!

Seriously considering starting Wellbutrin again since I've always had a problem with anxiety. I weaned myself off of it this winter since I'm a bit of a purist about what goes in my body. The only reason I take birth control is because, according to my doctor, my cervix is too tight for it to be properly inserted. Trust me, I've tried three times after the pregnancy.

My heart is deployed, and I want it back...

The Love Doll

As

Meet "Aurora," she is a "love doll" replica of a famous celebrity that I share a name, hair color, and cup size with. As we speak, she is on her way to Afghanistan fully blown up, complete with party hat to wish Apache a very merry birthday.

A few weeks ago, I was attempting to quiz Apache what he would like for his birthday. He, very sweetly, said, "just you..." Now, y'all know I love adventure, and I would gladly mail myself if I felt I could get away with it. But I just do not wanna make Apache's buddies jealous.


So I bought "Aurora", blew her up, added some candy, snack foods, and some toiletries that he needs, and shipped her off. I CAN'T WAIT to see what he thinks about that, and I'm hoping he laughs!


**

On another note, those of you sending packages overseas might benefit from the USPS Shipping Assistant --
one of the things I HATE is filling out custom forms, especially since it takes FOREVER to do and i always send a variety of items that exceeds the number of lines on the form. You just load the program, and type in what you're sending, press print and done! <3 it!!!