I Want My Husband.

I just want you here. Now. There is nothing more in the world that I want. Anything material in this life I will give up if you just come back. This reality sucks and is stupid and I hate it. I want you, Jonathan. So quit fucking around and come out now.

Of course... no matter how much I want, pray, beg, plead... you won't. There's no coming back.
I hate this. I hate doing it on my own. It's not a matter of whether or not I can, it's a matter of the fact that I just do not want to.

Each day feels a little emptier, and I swear it's getting harder. Each day is a reminder that I don't know how long it will be until I see you again. You're not coming home. I close my eyes and I see us reuniting, you getting off a bus, meeting your daughter. I close my eyes and I can almost taste it. We were so close. I want it. I do not want this you not here thing. It's not what I agreed to. I agreed to a long, crazy life with you. I agreed to 20 plus years in the Corps. I agreed to short seperations. I agreed to moving, traveling, loving, fighting, eating, sleeping, not sleeping, raising child(ren). I agreed to unpredictability, chaos, peace, joy, entertaining, cuddling, sleepless nights waiting, and even being pregnant again (I would have done it). I agreed to homecomings and working through issues, I agreed to being there no matter what.

I did not agree to this!

I want to talk to you. Can't I just hear your voice, your real, raw, not recorded voice? Can't I just call you and get some answers? Can't we just have one conversation? I'm haunted by our last conversation, can't I have a redo? One more. Please. Even a letter? Can't I mail you a letter and just get something back? Just something back from you. Anything. Anything to know you're there. That you really didn't leave me.

The pain becomes unbearable when I think of how long it will be. I don't want this pain anymore. You need to come now, and make it better. Please. PLEASE. You made everything better, why not this? I know I say you're my strength. I go on for Ariana and I go on because I know you are there looking on me and reminding me to be strong. But goddammit I don't feel strong right now. I don't feel like you're there and I need it. I need you. I need you, Jonny.

I want you to call so I can tell you all the new things Ariana can do. I want you to call so I can tell you they can't find your computer (yes, your computer is missing. I don't know what they're doing and I don't think I'm going to get it back. All the pictures and videos you had on there that I didn't have... I push and push and it seems like I get no where. I pray that it turns up. If someone took it, I pray that they realize I need it. I need every single piece of you I can get). I want to tell you about our vacation. I want to tell you about everything that's been happening. So what if you can see it where you're at? I WANT TO TALK TO YOU ABOUT IT, share it, have an interaction, hear your reactions. I want to hear your laughter. I want you so badly.

They told me what you said before you got up there that day.
I was angry. I was so angry at first.
"I'll go up in the turret, just don't tell my wife."
You knew! You knew that if I knew I'd be mad, because you promised you wouldn't do anything you didn't have to, you promised you'd be as safe as possible, you promised that you would come home. Always the Marine, Jonny. Always going above and behind. I know you worked your ass off, but couldn't you have been selfish, just once?
Some people say those, especially the last, weren't your promises to make. I can see what they mean. It's not even my promise to make that I will return from the store or wake up in the morning. We never know when we're going to go. I try to remember that so I'm not as angry.
But when they told me, I was angry.


And then... I laughed. I was still on your mind. At first, it felt like you'd forgotten about us. Like we'd slipped your mind as you made the decision to get a little "unsafe" and get up there. But then I realized, you thought of me until the last minute. You wanted to protect me and not make me worry. But I laughed mostly because... you knew I would not be happy, boy did you know. You knew you would be in some hot water if and when (and eventually I would) I found out.

You didn't think I'd find out this way. I know in my heart you didn't think I'd find out this way.
I reread our deployment emails and we were so full of hope, of promise. You were so excited to be coming home, we would say "See you soon" and "Not that much longer" and you would make up songs about you coming home. We had over 3 months down. I had a batch of letters to send. I don't know where those letters went. People have helped me clean since then, they may have been tossed. Or I may have hid them, I know I personally didn't throw them away. I wish I knew where those letters, ready to go, "3 MONTHS DOWN!!!" went. We weren't even halfway there yet we were certain it wasn't going to be much longer, we were certain we'd get through and be seeing each other in the very near future. The future is so foreboding now. Scary and empty.

There is only one thing I can think of that I wouldn't give to have you come home. And that is Ariana. The one little piece of you you left with me. Thank God for that little girl. I don't know what I'd do without her. But short of our baby, there is nothing I wouldn't give to see you get off a bus.

Baby, where are you now? I need to feel you. I put this in writing as a plea to you... I need you.