My Life Loving My Deployed Airman

This is how I spend my nights...in front of my computer. Waiting for him to sign on, so we can talk, if only for a few hours...hopefully without much interruption. Facebook, Gmail, it doesn't matter as long as I'm talking to him. And this is how I spend my mornings...in front of my computer. Signing on, hoping that he's there waiting for me. Any amount of time we can talk to each other is cherished. This has been my life for the past 3 months. I don't turn my phone off, just in case...in case there's a phone call. And every time I get a text message, there's a part of me that thinks it's going to be him...but it's not. And every time I hear footsteps on the stairs of my building, I'm hoping it's him...coming home early, surprising me. But it's not him. And it won't be him for 3 more months. I haven't slept well since August 5th. I won't sleep well again until about February 20th. I'd rather talk to him until all hours of my night then sleep. I want him to stay awake as long as he can so I can talk to him, get my fill of him any way I can. My life consists of constant worry, hoping he's okay. I hope the dreams that I have aren't true. Dreams that I can't seem to get out of my mind, until I have another that replaces it. I proudly hang my yellow ribbon from my balcony and display my deployed soldier flag on my sliding glass door. I'm proud of my airman, so the waiting and the sleepless nights are totally worth it. And yes, I have to remind myself of that from time to time...when I'm exhausted because I couldn't sleep, or because I stayed up too late. Or when I turn my phone on and see his picture, waiting for his flight to Afghanistan. He's worth the wait...the worry...the exhaustion. This is why I carry my phone with me everywhere I go, why it's never on silent, why I never turn it off. There's not a second of my day that goes by that I don't think about him, that I don't miss him, that I don't need him. And sometimes, I find myself getting irritated with him over nothing, because in my mind, I think it'll help me miss him less. And sometimes it works but most of the time, I feel guilty for it...because he didn't do anything wrong. This is my life. And I knew this going into it. And instead of every day getting easier, it gets harder. I count the hours until I know we'll be talking...that's how I spend my day...and that's how my days will be spent for the next 100 and something days. I wouldn't give him up for anything in the world...as much as it sucks, as hard as it is, as miserable as I can feel...I know he's worth the wait...and that everything will work out once he comes home. So until then, lather, rinse, repeat. Sign on, sign off, answer the phone, hang up the phone.