Back to the Sandbox
I think I always knew that it was more likely to happen than not.
Still, I'm not sure that anything could have really prepared me for the moment my boyfriend told me he was going to Iraq for a year. Not only going to Iraq, but going back to Iraq.
I felt like I couldn't breathe. The thought of life without him for a year is a concept too difficult for me to wrap my mind around. A year of coming home to a dark and empty house, of sleeping alone, of cooking for one. A year of not waking to his beautiful, peaceful face and quiet breathing next to me. A year of not having him there to hold me, curled up, in his arms on the couch while we watch our favorite shows.
But you know, how's it going to be for him? He's going back to a war-torn country to do some dangerous work. He's already haunted by the things he did and saw at the very beginning of the war, when he and his boys marched Baghdad. He's started to revert back into the primitive survival mode that he was in 3 years ago; I see him mentally preparing himself to return to that life. It baffles me and bothers me at the same time.
He told me yesterday that he kind of expects me to leave him when he's gone. Why shouldn't he? It happened with another girl the last time he went to Iraq. It's happened to his friends. But how do I answer to that? What do I say to convince him that when I picture my future, all I see is his face?
I'd say that I wish this war were over, that he didn't have to go. I can't, though, because I know that my boyfriend believes in the rights of the Iraqi people to live freely, under a government whose processes they have a say in. He made friends with the people while he was there the first time. He was welcomed into their homes and shared meals with them. He understands this war more than I ever will, and more than the vast majority of Americans ever will. He grieves for the lives lost while he was there, lives from both his country and from the country he was occupying. He knows. He understands. And he's going back.
I am so lucky, so blessed to have such a man as my best friend and lover. There is nothing for me but to be here when he gets home.
Still, I'm not sure that anything could have really prepared me for the moment my boyfriend told me he was going to Iraq for a year. Not only going to Iraq, but going back to Iraq.
I felt like I couldn't breathe. The thought of life without him for a year is a concept too difficult for me to wrap my mind around. A year of coming home to a dark and empty house, of sleeping alone, of cooking for one. A year of not waking to his beautiful, peaceful face and quiet breathing next to me. A year of not having him there to hold me, curled up, in his arms on the couch while we watch our favorite shows.
But you know, how's it going to be for him? He's going back to a war-torn country to do some dangerous work. He's already haunted by the things he did and saw at the very beginning of the war, when he and his boys marched Baghdad. He's started to revert back into the primitive survival mode that he was in 3 years ago; I see him mentally preparing himself to return to that life. It baffles me and bothers me at the same time.
He told me yesterday that he kind of expects me to leave him when he's gone. Why shouldn't he? It happened with another girl the last time he went to Iraq. It's happened to his friends. But how do I answer to that? What do I say to convince him that when I picture my future, all I see is his face?
I'd say that I wish this war were over, that he didn't have to go. I can't, though, because I know that my boyfriend believes in the rights of the Iraqi people to live freely, under a government whose processes they have a say in. He made friends with the people while he was there the first time. He was welcomed into their homes and shared meals with them. He understands this war more than I ever will, and more than the vast majority of Americans ever will. He grieves for the lives lost while he was there, lives from both his country and from the country he was occupying. He knows. He understands. And he's going back.
I am so lucky, so blessed to have such a man as my best friend and lover. There is nothing for me but to be here when he gets home.
posted by Liz at 6:30 AM
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