Wow. Its been a long while since I actually sat down with the intention of writing something other than a grocery list, or monthly budget. My son is now two years old, and I am currently busier then I thought possible, working, keeping house and raising this wonderful, crazy family that I have.
But, I feel like its time to start being a ME again. Not just a mom. Not just a wife, or an employee. A human being with separate thoughts, and feelings. *gasp*.
I don't know why the following subject has been coming up so often in my train of thought lately, but I feel like it will just keep bottling up unless I somehow let it out. Maybe immortalizing it in writing will help calm the turbulent waters swaying back and forth in my mind.
I keep thinking about the One that I lost. Often, he enters my dreams, to stay a while. Not in a creepy, cheat on my husband sort of way at all. But he comes to play with my son, or have a beer with my hubby. He sits and talks and laughs with me like we used to do, for hours and hours, instead of sleeping. With that lopsided grin, and quick sense of humor.
And every time I wake up after, I feel this sense of peace envelop me like never before.
I know people have varying beliefs on whether someone who passes away can become another guardian angel. I don't even know what I believe myself when it comes to that. But I do know, that even after all these years, I have a friend who I loved with all of my heart, somewhere up there watching out for me.
It seems like so long ago, I was an awkward 17 year old girl who had never been on a date, or been kissed. I didn't even really know how to talk to guys in a romantic way. Hell, half the time I couldn't even talk like a normal human being! But, for some reason he liked me. He liked my dreams, and my ambitions. He thought I was worth the time and effort to get to know, and understand. We laughed, and cried, joked and ( attempted) to flirt. It was magical in my eyes.
There was music, always. And the baring of souls. He was one of the best friends I had ever encountered in my life. He used to love making me blush by telling me about how he was going to dance with me at his best friends wedding, and kiss me under the stars. I brushed in off as a silly guy trying to get a rise out of a shy girl.
Then came the day, that he told me he was falling in love with me. A more earth shattering sentence had never been uttered in my presence before. How in the hell had I managed to score this??? I was speechless.
And he just laughed, a sweet, serene sound amidst the hurricane that was going on in my head. He had to go, they were doing training that day. He promised to talk to me the next day, to see if I had my wits about me enough to respond.
I went to bed that night, giddy and elated, wondering how I truly felt, enjoying the buzz from this "first love".
Then came the phone call.
It was all a blur. Something had happened, it didn't look great. Friendly fire from the live fire training had somehow managed to hit just under where his helmet rested. Hitting just right. There was a little time after that, although not much and not lucid. Just enough for whispers of prayers to fly out into the night.
I didn't eat. I didn't sleep. I hardly had an actually thought. I remember thinking how it was crazy to be that numb.
My mom, trying to keep my spirits up, decided we needed an outing. That's what eventually did me in.
The song he had given me, one I had never in my life heard before, started playing in the store. And I knew.
The phone ringing just as I got home didn't surprise me. I started at his cousins number, not needing to hear the words, because I already knew. It went to voicemail, and then they called again. I picked up that time.
I sat on my porch step for hours. Not shedding a tear, not having any sort of lucid thoughts. Just existing.
I was alone that next week, my mom had to go on a business trip and Id be holding down the fort myself. I was fine with that. Never one to be comfortable with showing too much emotion in front of others. She was gone an hour before I broke.
Falling face down on the floor, I cried like my soul had been ripped in two. I felt every single twinge of pain possible that could emanate from a broken heart. The numbness and shock had worn off, and I was completely broken.
Fast forward a few months. His family and I became closer. We grieved together, and loved together, and ultimately learned how to laugh together again. He helped carve them into my heart, a more permanent love then any friendship could ever be called.
Every major life decision, every heartbreak, and triumph since, I feel him. I see him in my dreams, urging me to go on. To never go back to that sad, self harming little girl.
I don't grieve the lost love, or the possible romance we could have had. I don't think it was ever really about that. I think he was in my life to lead me to others. Friends I will never let go of, the boy next door who held my had when I was sad. The first one I told, and cried in front of, who would ultimately turn out to be the father of my child. The child who doctors told me Id never carry, yet He said would happen one day.
We were never perfect people, but he was the perfect one for me at that time. My light in a darkness I thought Id never escape. And I thank God for leading my soldier to me every day.