Military Girlfriend – …on the B.L.

End of An Era

September 13, 2019September 13, 2019 RaeAnna

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.

After five years, I finally have pictures of this sign.

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.

Seriously. This is a great sign. Also, taking pictures without a tripod and only a phone… difficult.

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

Experiences, Travel

New Bern, North Carolina: Birthplace of Pepsi-Cola

September 8, 2019 RaeAnna

Drinking Pepsi in front of the Birthplace of Pepsi-Cola.

Enjoying a refreshing Pepsi in New Bern, NC.

The ginkgo trees covered in Spanish moss.

An adorable front door in an alley in downtown New Bern, NC.

Literally one of my favorite pictures I have ever taken. The outdoor sanctuary in New Bern, NC.

I have been going to Jacksonville, North Carolina for years. Other than having a ton of trees and ocean views, there isn’t much going for it. Luckily, it’s nicely situated in between a lot of cool places. Unfortunately, I hadn’t looked into many of the surrounding areas until the last couple of years; even then, I didn’t look very hard. I’m kicking myself because I’ve been missing out.

New Bern, North Carolina is just one of those places I’ve been missing out on. A small town on the Neuse River only an hour north of Jacksonville. An easy day trip. With my never ending well of charm mixed with persistence, stubbornness, lack of self-respect, and my willingness to beg in combination with Alex’s complete ambivalence towards our activities as long as he’s gotten enough sleep, I managed to convince him a trip to New Bern, North Carolina wouldn’t be a terrible way to spend an afternoon.

Pepsi-Cola outside the shop in front of the Bradham Pharmacy sign.

I think every town has a claim to fame; this is absolutely refutable. New Bern, NC doesn’t have a small claim to fame. They’re the origination point of Pepsi-Cola; it’s a huge claim to fame. Pepsi is the soda I grew up on. Caleb Davis Bradhem ended up opening a drugstore on a corner in downtown New Bern. In 1893, he invented “Brad’s Drink” as a healthy way to help digestion. In 1898, he renamed it Pepsi-Cola after dyspepsia, or indigestion. By 1903, Pepsi-Cola was an official company and trademark due to its popularity. You can still visit the site where Pepsi was created on the corner of Middle Street and Pollock Street. The soda shop serves Pepsi and popcorn, and there’s a gift shop on the other side of the soda fountain. The store opened its doors in 1998, one hundred years after the creation of Pepsi-Cola. Alex and I bought matching shirts because we don’t know if we’ll ever be back. I’m a Pepsi girl, and he loves his Mountain Dew, so it was fitting.

New Bern isn’t just home to Pepsi, it is the second oldest town in North Carolina having been founded in 1710. It served as the first state capitol. There’s a gorgeous church standing across the street from the Pepsi shop. The church yard is home to headstones with faded lettering dating back to the eighteenth century. Ginkgo trees sheathed in Spanish moss shade the outdoor sanctuary. It really is stunning. The downtown is full of picturesque spots and well kept buildings. There are over 150 buildings and homes on the historic registry. It’s easy to get lost in the small town charm of this waterfront town.

I wish I had known about this town about five years sooner. If you’re ever in town, grab a glass bottle of Pepsi and stop by Wiener Haus because it has some pretty good food.

bisous und обьятий,
RaeAnna

Experiences, Style, Travel

So Long, Jacksonville

August 28, 2019September 20, 2019 RaeAnna

At Bush International Airport bright and early to fly to Jacksonville. I DID pair a Spider-Man tee with a Pink Satin Pleated Midi Skirt! I’m so avant garde! | Shoes | Suitcase | Sweater | Purse | Belt | Earrings | Watch |

I love traveling. Obviously. I do it all the time. I last left Jacksonville a month and four days ago, so why am I back so soon?

Jacksonville, North Carolina is an interesting place. I was not immediately smitten. The process took a few years. Situated in swamplandia, it’s not much to look at. Their main claim to fame is the Marine Base: Camp LeJeune. Like most military towns, there is an abundance of strip clubs, pawn shops, used car dealerships, tattoo parlors, and barbershops because what else could a young military man want (and I do mean man, well maybe guy). The average age of the town can’t be more than 25 because the military is notoriously young. The natives are ambivalent towards the transient military community, but they manage to coexist in the dysfunctionally-functional way people trend toward. When a civilian finds out I’m in town visiting a guy in the military, their eyes glaze over and I receive a cursory nod and “Oh…” before they move on to more interesting clichés of life. Wealth is not evident, and the town feels like it would immediately implode if the military ever forsook them. There are pieces of history and beauty scattered throughout. A river runs through downtown on its way to the ocean, where you can find a wooden boardwalk sloping from age and water. A cobblestone block runs in front of a cute café. Historic buildings, Victorian homes with wrap around porches, and a white-steepled church make the area quintessentially small town cute. It did take me four and a half years to find this spot in town devoid of strip malls and other less than tasteful establishments.

All of that said, I have a warm spot in my heart for this hiccup of place. What the town lacks, nature makes up for. People are genuinely kind, whether I’m military adjacent or not. Many are far from home, hailing from every nook and cranny of the country. Where the city stops, the ocean and forest immediately begin. You don’t have to drive more than fifteen minutes to find a beach. If you’re willing to go a little farther, you can find lighthouses and islands and the North Carolina of postcards.

The small town cute in downtown Jacksonville.

I have no desire to live in Jacksonville. There is a HUGE chance, I’ll never be within city limits after this trip is done.

I’ve been a frequent and enthusiastic visitor to Jacksonville, Camp LeJeune, and MCAS New River because it has been home to my best friend for five and a half years. After finishing boot camp and his MOS training, he was stationed as a helicopter mechanic at MCAS New River. I visited him for the first time in Jacksonville exactly five years ago to the day for Labor Day weekend. We went to beaches and reconnected after eight months apart. My life has changed immensely in those five years. I quit my jobs in downtown Chicago’s corporate America, which allowed me to see him more often and for longer. I started freelancing – aka bartending to pay the bills. I moved to Houston and freelanced – for realsies, no bartending necessary. I began a blog. I started traveling even more. I adopted a dog. I rediscovered the fuel of my spirit. Alex and I fell apart and reconnected. It’s been a journey.

Throughout it all, I’ve been a regular visitor to Jacksonville, North Carolina. But this is my last trip. I’m not ditching Alex for a sparkly new best friend forever and always. He is leaving the Marines behind him. In a few days, he will be discharged after six years honorable years of service, three deployments, and a lot of sleepless nights to start his life a civilian somewhere in the world. I’ll have a new place to frequently and enthusiastically visit.

So this is a last minute farewell tour of a town I would have never gotten to know or grown to love if it weren’t for the Marines.

bisous und обьятий,
RaeAnna

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I’m looking very confused as to what to do with this sweater, while trying not to over heat in the 6:00 am heat of Houston, Texas.

In My Own Words, Lifestyle

Military Movies

May 27, 2019June 23, 2019 RaeAnna

I don’t crumble at much. Military movies make me crumble. I wasn’t always that way; they never used to affect me at all. When Alex started the enlistment process, I started to look at them differently. Up until that point, they were history, other people’s lives. Once the military started to creep into the edges of my life, military movies became the embodiment of my greatest fears. I’ve barely begun writing this and tears are streaming down my face. Having to think about this for longer than a moment feels like my lungs are collapsing on themselves.

The thing I fear most in this world is losing Alex. It’s the one thing that I don’t think I would ever recover from. I am genuinely uninterested in a world he does not exist in.

He left for bootcamp five and a half years ago. Since the day I stood waiving as his bus drove away, I have worried. I have lived with a deeply rooted fear that the last time I saw him will be the last time I see him. War movies are the worst case scenario, but he’s in the military. It’s a scenario planted solidly in the plausible. And in the political climate we live in, it feels like anything is possible. Things move slowly and wish-washy in the military, until they don’t. Then, they move incredibly fast. “Surprise! You’re going on a DET tomorrow for two weeks.” You never know for sure until it’s happening.

The fear worsens when he’s deployed. I’m lucky. I am so incredibly lucky. I have never forgotten that fact. He’s been deployed to really cushy areas. He’s on his third deployment. Hopefully his last. Even in the cushy areas, there are so many unknowns. Often times, I will go weeks and even months without hearing anything from him. More often than not, I don’t hear about things until he’s home. Let’s be honest, I don’t really know when he’s coming home until a week or two before. I once found out he was home when he called to tell me he’d arrived. We’ve missed Christmases and birthdays and celebrations for almost six years. I don’t care as long as he comes home. During his first deployment to Japan, there was a pretty awful tsunami, which they had to evacuate for. I found out about the storm from my best friend, who was watching the news. I didn’t learn about the evacuation until eight months after he was home from another MilSO. At the time, it was terrifying. They had no power, so no way to communicate. He was fine having a grown-man slumber party with his buddies in the barracks. But human nature takes us to the darkest, deepest recesses of our minds. I’m very much an Eeyore, so this has been a rough five and a half years in my dark, deep recess.

It’s hard not to worry when their job description includes a weapon. It’s one thing to go shooting in Grandma and Grandpa’s pasture with your dad’s childhood rifle. And a completely different thing to be issued a gun. They are trained. They practice. They aim. They breathe. In case someday they have to shoot. I am terrified of that day because it means someone else is aiming too. War movies remind me of this. They’re all guns ablaze, awesome explosions, a clear enemy, a clear hero. War isn’t that. It’s not that at all. It’s not for entertainment. War is terrifying. War is people against people, who all think they’re right. They’re all just fighting for the people they love at home. They’re young. They’re so young. Alex went in at 24, and that was considered “ancient.” Most kids go in at 18 on their first breath of freedom. It’s too young to die.

War movies mostly show the military side of things in the thick of it. There’s more to it. There are the families. There is the after. I remember watching American Sniper when it came out. The scene where he’s on the phone with his pregnant wife, and she hears the gun fire on the other side of the world before the line cuts out. She crumpled. I crumpled. Alex was deployed at the time. I can’t imagine. I don’t want to imagine. That scene was one of the hardest for me to watch. Amy Schumer’s character in Thank You For Your Service is still my favorite of her performances. She donated her paycheck to TAPS and Fisher House because some people’s fears come true, and their service members don’t come home or come home forever changed. Us at home. We have stories. We have lives that keep going, but there’s a part of us pausing. Waiting to breath until the next email or phone call or hug. Worry. I’m good at worrying. Every time there’s an unfamiliar phone number from a distant place. Every day I don’t see his name in my inbox. Every single moment there is silence, there is an ache waiting to know he’s ok.

Military movies put my fears on a big screen. They show all the crap, I don’t want to think about as a possibility. I don’t want to think about his death. What about mine? The military dictates my life in a way, but it dictates every part of Alex’s. They are away from us. They don’t know what’s going on at home. When I was 24, I was in the hospital for a long time in total organ failure. I was dying. The doctors told me to prepare myself and those I loved. Alex wasn’t deployed, but he couldn’t come. I didn’t know if I would live or die. I didn’t know if I would ever see him again. He knew I was sick and called as much as he could. I wasn’t able to communicate well, so I couldn’t tell him the extent of how sick I was. I also knew he couldn’t come, so I didn’t tell him how sick I was because it wasn’t going to change anything. I wasn’t going to make him worry. I remember laying in the hospital bed, and all I wanted was to hold his hand one more time. I would have given anything for him to be there. I was too sick for many tears to come, so I closed my eyes and prayed to a God I don’t believe in. To this day, it is one of the most painful times to recall because I needed him. He couldn’t be there. I wasn’t worried, but I was scared.

Alex works on helicopters. He’s on a boat. He’s somewhere in the world in the ocean. The likelihood he will ever have a gun pointed at him is pretty low. I am lucky. I am so lucky. Accidents happen. I know of so many cases where flukes happen and lives are ruined, ended. (I live with a life and body ruined by a fluke that happened one day on base in Jacksonville, North Carolina because of a helicopter. But that’s a story for another day.) Bad things can happen to anyone anywhere. The military just magnitizes that fear. Those men and women sign up willing to risk their lives. That is honorable and noble. They have my respect and support. The people who love them stand by hoping to never get the call. Service men and women may be willing to give the ultimate sacrifice, but I am not. I am not willing to sacrifice Alex.