In My Own Words, Lifestyle

End of An Era

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This is my favorite sign.

 

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.

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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. 

 

 

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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

Lifestyle

Eight Years

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Alex and I rarely take cute pictures, they are usually goofy. | My Sweater (backless!) | My Jeans | My Socks | My Boots | My Watch | Alex’s Sweater (I picked it out) | Alex’s Jeans (these too) 

To the rest of the world, today is New Year’s Eve. Up until eight years ago, it was just New Year’s for me too.

My most influential person came into my life eight years and a few hours ago. His name is Alex. He’s made appearances here and there on my blog. He’s been a big part of my travels this year. He helped make 2018 brilliant.

I can’t really describe Alex to you in any way other than he is an amazing person. People love him or hate him. There is no in between. I don’t know why people hate him except he is an intense kind of man in all the best ways. So there is probably something wrong with the haters.

There are people who come into our lives and change everything. Alex is that person to me. I am who I am because of him. He has become such a part of my story it is impossible to tell it without him. He is written on my soul.

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We are always laughing together. Seriously. It’s obnoxious… To other people, I imagine.

On New Year’s Eve of 2010, Alex came into my life, and he never left. We were in college together. He was a senior; I was a freshman. We had almost no reason to meet. Due to fate and a heart condition, he’s stuck with me. We were in choir together. When our director rearranged the seating arrangement, he ended up sitting in front of me. Very few people know this about him anymore: he has a beautiful singing voice. Long story short. Out of sheer optimism or naiveté or stupidity, I invited this dude, who I’d never had an in-person conversation with, to my house for New Year’s. He hugged my dad before we’d ever touched. It was ballsy. It worked out.

In the last eight years, Alex and I have been through more than I could ever write about. We walked to hell and back holding hands a few times over. It wasn’t easy. Actually, it’s been the hardest eight years of my life. Because of him, they have been the best eight years of my life. He is just shy of sainthood. Flawed as he is, he has always put me first. I have severe PTSD. I’ve been through sexual assaults and domestic violence. I have been in abusive relationships. I have been insecure. I have been broken. I have been bruised literally and in a non-physical sense of things. I have seen some pretty horrific things. Through my darkest days, Alex has always been there. He has never left. He has never made me feel less than. He has made me laugh through my tears. He has held my hand when there were no words to be said. When I have been unable or unwilling to pick up the pieces of my soul, he has put them back together. He helped make me whole, when I had never known what that felt like.

Alex went into the Marines over five years ago. We spent three years living together before he enlisted. In five years, we have spent one Christmas and one birthday together. He deployed twice. Two weeks ago, he left on his third deployment. He’s on a boat somewhere in the world. I don’t know where. Late on Christmas Day, I was lucky enough to get a phone call from him. We exchange emails whenever he has internet. I don’t know when he’ll be home. It will be eight months or more. It’s hard. I miss him. I miss hearing his voice. I miss getting to visit him. This isn’t new. We’ve gone over a year without seeing or talking to each other by phone in the past. It’s part of life in the military and loving someone in the military. Many other women, men, and families go through the same thing. Worry is part of our lives.

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Just doing normal people stuff in a field in 12 degree weather. Like normal people.

Alex and I have been a part of each other’s lives for eight years. They have been beautiful and stressful and all the feelings in between. Life has been hard on us. A lot of things were out of our control, some that weren’t, and some that seemed like they were. I wish many things had gone differently in our combined lives and our lives before each other. Then again, I don’t. I wouldn’t change him or I or what we have for anything in the world.

I can’t tell you who I am without talking about Alex. He has been an integral part of my life. Some people don’t just influence who we are, they form who we are. He has pushed me to be better. He has questioned my opinions and thoughts. He has held me when I’ve cried. He always challenges me to be the best version of myself. I don’t think I’m as good for him as he is for me, but I’m not going to tell him that any time soon.

It’s been eight years. I hope to have about a gazillion more, but I’ll settle for another seventy. I think I can make it to 97. Any day after that will be a blessing I think.

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“Can we just take a normal picture???” I ask. He responds “No.”