I never wanted a military relationship. On a technicality, I never had an official, romantic, military relationship. But I have been in a military relationship from start to finish.
Shortly after Alex and I started dating in the winter of 2011, he told me he wanted to go into the military after graduating from college that spring. I knew I didn’t want to be in college while my boyfriend was off being a soldier or whatever. If he wanted to be in the military, then we would be friends. I wouldn’t do it with him.
Alex was never supposed to be anything more than a fling. He was a senior. I was a freshman. Neither of us were looking for anything. But he was cute; I was awkward. I made a move; it worked. Instead of flinging it, we fell in love. The kind of profound love that can only come about when inexperience combines with true compatibility, honesty, and dedication. I was raw and broken emotion, and he didn’t turn away from my pain. I saw through his façade to the man I still see today. It was and is the kind of love which reaches deep within two souls. Alex is written on my DNA. There is not a part of me remaining he has not touched. I am the person I am because he took the time to see me. I used to think he made me the person I am, but that’s not true. He did not make me; I made me, but he pushed.
Love is an extraordinary force. The love we found made him decide to put his military aspirations away so we could be together. A year and a half after he chose me over the military, we were laying in bed. He stared at the ceiling as he said, “I think, I still want to go into the military.” I loved him, and I knew this was something he needed to do or he would resent the what ifs. He met recruiters from every branch. As a couple, we met with the branches he was most impressed with. Together, we decided on the Marines. It took almost a year between interviewing recruiters to sending him to boot camp. OCS was the first choice, but the political climate and a paperwork fiasco made that process long and unreasonable. He didn’t want to wait any longer, so he enlisted in October 2013. By that time, we were no longer a couple, but we were still committed to each other, sharing a home, bills, and responsibilities. I watched him swear in before the bus took my Alex to become a Marine. I heard boot camp changed people, and I had no idea who I would hug at graduation in three months. I’m convinced nothing can change my Alex because he was exactly the same willful, messy, smart, inquisitive, sarcastic, quirky, goof of a person. He did have abs, though.
Six years.
Five birthdays.
Four ranks.
Three deployments.
Two quals.
One extension.
Sergeant LeFebvre.
It may not have been an official, romantic, military relationship. But I have been in a military relationship. I have been there for him in every way that I could. I have showed up for ceremonies and a homecoming. I have gone to balls and family days. I have written letters. I have made phone calls. I have planned and replanned trips. I have waited and wondered. I have sent care packages. I have attended weddings. I have made friends. I have bought plane tickets and driven over night. I have whisked him away and staycationed. I have been there.
The military has kept him away from me. He hasn’t been able to support me or show up for me. That’s not his fault. It’s not my fault. It’s military life. We signed up for it. We agreed to it. We knew what that contract meant. It never made his absence less painful. Agreeing to something and dealing with something are not the same. I graduated college, which was largely due to his existence in my life. I hoped he would be there to surprise me. He didn’t. I moved and got a job. I wanted him to celebrate with me. He didn’t. I ended up in the hospital and almost died. I prayed he could be there to hold my hand. He didn’t. I had surgery. I wished he could take care of me. He didn’t. I moved across the country. I wanted him to move me. He didn’t. I got sick and spent months trying to figure out what was wrong. I needed to hold his hand. He didn’t. I made friends, who I wish he could meet. He hasn’t.
I have been a part of Alex’s life for six years, but he has not been a physical part of mine. It’s not that Alex is a bad guy or doesn’t want to be a part of my life, but the military makes it difficult if not impossible. We have done what we can, but now, we’ll be able to do more. Alex missed so many things in my life, and we can’t get those back. The future holds possibility.
As of today, an era has ended. With DD 214, he’s on his way home. For good. He’ll always be a Marine, but he’s no longer active duty. A new journey is unfolding for him. One that will more easily allow him to be a part of my life. As happy as I am, it is bittersweet saying goodbye to our years in the military and being military adjacent. We both grew as people. He’s a better man, and I’m a more self-sufficient woman. I don’t know how our lives will look, but it will be different.
Dear Alex,
I am so fucking proud of you. I didn’t want this to be my life in 2011. By 2013, I had accepted this would be part of my life for an indeterminate amount of time. Six years is shorter than twenty, so thank you.
Thank you for allowing me to be a part of your life before the military, during, and after. Being your partner has been one of the greatest pleasures of my life. I don’t know who I would be without your constant presence, pressure, and reassurance even if it was in an email from a boat in the middle of somewhere. You have been worth every tear and worry crinkle but mostly laugh lines.
There is so much I won’t miss about the military. I will miss the balls, obviously. I will miss getting breakfast at the cafe downtown. I will miss the Marina. I will miss dragging you to lighthouses. I will miss the barracks in a masochistic sort of way. I will miss the idiots doing idiot things. I will miss your friends who I adore to tease. I will miss buying t-shirts that say Marines. I will miss the hanger and hearing helicopters over head. I will miss the lotion in the base hotel. I will miss the Aviation Memorial. I will miss driving through base. I will miss hearing acronyms. I will miss listening to you talk about your zingers and all the ways you annoy your peons. I will miss seeing you in uniform. I will miss the Pardon Our Noise; It’s the Sound of Freedom sign.
Most of all, I will miss walking next to you on Onslow Beach on Camp Lejeune. We have walked up and down that beach so many times over the last five years. We’ve walked it in July’s scorching sun and in December wrapped in sweaters. It was one of the first things we did on my first trip to Jacksonville and one of the last. I have collected the memories along with the rocks and shells you’ve given me on that beach. You never loved it as much as I did, but you always walked with me, no matter what.
Drive home safe, and I’ll see you soon.
Love Always,
RaeAnna
Girl, I knew but never knew. I know the feelings you are both having. A butter sweet end. Painful, but happy it has finally came. Thank you for supporting him on what you didnt want him to do. Tell you the truth, I didnt want him to either, would have been a better officer. Both of you remember, if you need something, I am a text away. Congrats to you both.
I think it would have been a completely different experience had he gone the officer route. It’s not the life I would have chosen, but it’s been a life filled with ups and downs and a lot of wonderful memories. We’re always here for you too!