Life is hard work.
I know that.
I've known that.
I have struggled and fought and clawed my way through darkness, through hopelessness, through disappointments and heartbreak, through grief and sleepless nights...and I am still here.
I am not immune to struggles.
And while I still come out on the other side of hardships, sometimes (most times) it is in scattered pieces.
Pieces that I have to gather, pick up, and try to put myself back together again.
I will never be whole.
And I will break again.
And again and again and again.
But thus far, my track record has proven that I fight my way through, I don't give up (I consider my vocabulary to exclude the phrase "give up"), and I stay alive.
If only just barely.
And this is no different than any other time.
Though, certainly, it is an entirely new kind of struggle for me.
One I never thought I would face, to be honest.
To love someone so deeply and so fiercely and be affected by every tiny, seemingly insignificant thing that they do.
To have them become so much a part of me, that when they are absent, it feels like I am missing a piece of myself.
And to be sure, I am.
I am missing My Heart.
He has been gone for four months.
Four long months, that have dragged by.
Where our only means of communication have been by written letters.
Four months of people telling me "it will fly by!"
Four months of me wanting to strangle every. single. fucking. piece of shit that has thoughtlessly uttered that fucking phrase to my face.
Because OF COURSE, they have been apart from their spouse for that long of an amount of time.
OF COURSE they have only ever been able to communicate with their spouse by written letter. No phone calls, no texts, no emails...n-o-t-h-i-n-g.
These "well-meaning," but completely heartless shit humans trying to comfort me in telling me "it will be over before you know it!" have NEVER been though anything like this.
How dare they speak on something they know nothing about.
And now?
Now those four months are going to turn into seven months...if not more.
Because of course the man I fell in love with, the man who holds my heart, excelled in his training. He stepped up, became the excellent leader I know he's capable of being, he worked hard, he took charge, took responsibility, first one up in the morning, last one to go to bed at night. This man is now reaping the reward of his hard work and efforts, and has been placed in additional training that will help him accomplish his goals and dreams.
And I couldn't be more proud of him.
He joined having a goal in mind; and while this isn't the exact same end-game as his initial goal, it runs parallel to what he wants. And so instead of trying out for something, instead of potentially being rejected, his determination and noble character opened the door of opportunity for him to go straight through this pipeline of training, without having to try out, giving him that opportunity for one further step in reaching his goal.
It's an incredible opportunity. And it's what he wants. So, of course, I want this for him as well. I want to support him in all that he sets out to accomplish. I want to be there by his side. To help him, to encourage him, to support him, to cheer him on. He deserves it, and I want to be that for him. I want to be what he needs.
I love him.
And because I love him, this means setting aside my "needs" for a little while longer. I am willing (as much as I'm kicking and screaming on the inside about it) to be here longer than anticipated, if it means he gets to do this. He is my dreamer, and I want to do all that I can to encourage his dreams, to help see them become a reality.
Even if it kills me.
Because I can't say that being here is necessarily the best for me.
(I would argue the exact opposite, in fact.)
While I used to be more ignorant of my own self before, I have slowly learned to be a little more in tune with my needs. With my mental health. And I can see my mental health declining. Rapidly.
And I can't change that. I can't fix it. I have little to no control over most things in my life, and that helps about negative 73.6%.
But there is joy in suffering.
Or so I am learning.
Not that I take joy in being in a place that I absolutely despise. In fact, I don't think I've ever hated anything more in my life. I'm miserable here, and my best friends know that. (Though I try to not talk about that too much, because I know it gets repetitive, and then it just seems like I'm complaining.)
So while I don't find joy in my physical location, nor my job, I *do* take joy in the fact that the man I love with my whole being, is able to pursue his goal. He is able to take an opportunity, and move forward with it. And that makes me happy.
Relationships are hard work.
This is something stated all the time, and rightly so, for how very true it is.
What you put into it, is what you will get out of it.
And if you determine in your head that something is worth the effort, worth the pain and the sorrow and the suffering, you will do everything within your power to continue to invest in it, to pour your heart and soul into it, all the sleepless nights, all the tears spilled, all the days where you aren't sure you'll be able to make it one more day because of how broken your heart feels.
People these days seem to lose sight of this.
And I could go into a rant about how people don't mean what they say anymore, how "commitment" is just an archaic term, that love is only something you feel in the moment, and once you stop feeling it, you move onto the next thing and/or person...but I won't.
I will say, however, that love is not only a commitment; it is a choice.
I wake up every day, and every day, no matter how miserable I am, or how much I want to die, I remember my choice.
To love him.
To honour him.
To respect him.
To support him as much as I am able.
And that I chose him.
That I choose him.
Every day.
Day after day after day.
I chose him the moment we decided to be "official," and I have continued to choose him every day since then.
He is the love of my life, he is the man who holds my heart, he is a dream come true, he is my best friend.
So OF COURSE I am going to stick by him.
Of course I am going to weather this storm of long distance and physical absence.
Do I love it?
Of fucking course not!
But do I love him?
Undoubtedly.
Completely.
Wholly.
And that makes all of this, worth it.
For him.
