Phone calls

Before C. went out, I had no imagination about how contact would be. Now I am nine weeks into my first tour and I can say: I still haven't got a clue how often I will hear from him. Sometimes I don't hear out for weeks, and then I am lucky and get two calls in a row.

I always thought it would be difficult to speak to him on the phone, that he would just be tired, exhausted and in a crappy mood. But it's not like that. I still never heard him complain. He used to say "this weather sucks" or "I miss you so much I really can't wait to get back", but is this complaining? I doubt it. I heard many army wives or girlfriends moaning about their soldiers on the phone being all negative. I haven't experienced something like that yet. I am still wondering how he is doing it, how he's always sounding so happy everytime he calls me.

What I never know is with what random thing he comes up with the next time he calls. "I'm sitting on a motor bike" I've heard a couple of times now and that doesn't impress me anymore I have to say. Last night when he phoned it was "I'm lying on a helicopter field right now". Oh, really? Something new, not just the motor bike! His way of dealing with everything makes me just really happy. 

But it's not just the silly things in his phone calls that are cheering me up, it is those lovely ones as well. Hearing him saying "all your pictures are in my bed" is just the best thing ever. Hearing him saying "I can't be really happy over here, but when I speak to you I am" makes me proud. 

All these special things he gives me through one of his rare phone calls make me appreciate them so much. Everything he says makes the whole waiting so much worth it. And every moan I hear from another army girlfriend about their soldiers behaving wrong on the phone makes me realize I have found my perfect match. I'd rather speak to him less and have an amazing conversation after two weeks of waiting than getting a call every couple of days and having a less special talk to him.

He gives me everything of him he can give me through every call he does. He gives me little pieces of him back. He gives me memories, moments I can remember during the time he's not able to call. He gives me cuddles, kisses and hugs with every word he says. He gives me everything I need to get through this tour. 

And during the time we don't speak, may it be days or weeks, I know we are thousands of miles apart, but secretly really close. Because I know when I miss him he does the same. I know when I wish he was with me, so does he. I know every moment I think about him, the moments we shared together, he is thinking about me and our memories as well. 

We are never far apart, because our hearts are bonded.

Day 55

I thought day 55 would have been a good one. I finished C.s Christmas parcel and it was ready for its long way to my love in the desert. Day 55 was one of these sunny Sundays. I think I start to fear these sunny Sundays now. 

What do you feel when your other half's regiment appears on the news? 

I have no words for this feeling. Your heart skips a beat. Maybe two. You get an unbelievable shocking shiver down your back. And you can't breathe. You try to believe you should know by now, but you're never 100 per cent sure.

I thought I could find words for nearly everything, but this journey of a tour is full of emotions I just cannot fit into simple words. I'd say it was fear. I'd say it was helplessness. I'd say it was simply the wish to just be able to hug him and make sure he's alright. The wish that would never come true through the following months.

The mask

When I look into the mirror in the mornings, I see a pale tired face. I see a restless soul and an always working mind. I see a single tear running down my cheek in silence. And I see that mask upcoming for the day. That mask that I have to wear each and every day, that I put on every morning to get me through it. People see me smiling and joking, but they don't see what is behind it. 

People see me handling the stress of a busy day, but they don't see how much more pressure is on my shoulders. People don't see me falling. They don't see me writing letters under tears, they don't hear me screaming in pain, they don't see me looking at pictures and reading through the same lines for hours and hours. 

People ask me how I am doing, how I am coping and I answer "I am fine". No one knows how I really feel, no one sees the mask I am wearing. They just don't know what you go through when you are in love with an infantry soldier. They don't know what it feels like having the love of your life in a war zone. They don't know what it feels like not being able to speak to him for days and weeks. They don't understand the fear, the tears, the pain. They don't understand what it feels like when they say "have you heard of that death in Afghan". 

But they don't understand what it feels like when I get to speak to C. finally after two weeks either. They don't know what unconditional love means. They don't even know that they won't ever be able to feel this love for a person. 

"And ever has it been known that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation." 

Khalil Gibran

They don't know that all the waiting will be worth it. With every time I hear "How do you do this, I would never be able to do it" I know that they just don't have a single clue about what true love means. To conquer the distance. To beat the days and weeks with no contact. To face the fears of your life. To have sleepless nights. To wish and wish and wish and wish and getting no answers.

It's been said distance is not for the fearful, it's for the bold. For those willing to spend a lot of time alone, in exchange for a little time with the one they love. It's for those who know a good thing when they see it, even if they don't see it nearly enough...

People don't know what it means to express all your feelings in writing downs hundreds and hundreds of lines. But they will never know the feeling of receiving some lines in exchange as well. They will never know that you can't get bored of reading through these lines again and again even though you already know them by heard. They will never understand why you read through them in tears, each and every night.

And that is why you just don't make any effort to explain it to them. You can't understand all these feelings, until you experienced walking through this hell yourself. 

I don't know what it feels like to get my infantry soldier back yet, but what I know after walking through this hell for eight whole weeks now is that it will be so worth it. All the pain, the fears, the sleepless nights, the tears, the lonely days. I will get a life in exchange to all that afterwards, that no one can ever dream of. I will get my infantry soldier back and I will have the most amazing and beautiful feeling after these months of waiting. And it is the overwhelming love that I feel in every phone call, in every letter I get that keeps me going. The love I get back from Afghan. The love I feel when he says "I miss you and I love you". That is exactly what will get me through it. It will be so worth it.

The ups and downs

Before C. went out, I remember saying to my mate "I just wish the first six weeks were already done". Well. Now we are seven weeks into this tour. Seven weeks from 24 at all. Does it get easier? I suppose it should. I suppose I should have adjusted to the whole situation. Maybe it does. Easier? I'm still not too sure if that is the right word for this whole thing. Nothing about it is "easy". Living outside the UK doesn't make it "easier" either. It causes lots of trouble and obstacles to jump over. Not too sure if I always can jump over them swanky, but if not I just have to run it over.

The four letters C. sent to me kept me through the days and weeks with no contact. The letters on their way to me kept me going. But now, I just got to know that they won't get to me anymore. Those little wee parts of my other half can't be delivered. Cheers post service. Cheers Germany. It was always a comfy feeling knowing there is something of C. on its way to me. That some day, whenever it may be, this important and amazing blue letter will be on my doorstep. But now? I know there is nothing. There is nothing from him on its way to me. I can be happy I already got four of those boosts to keep my chin up. I swear I know each of them by heart. However, it's such a negative feeling knowing there won't be any blue letters for me again.

At the moment, everything literally is taking the piss. There's so many things upcoming I just can't sort out even though I try my very best. It's just not in my hands. Everything seems to loose control a little bit. I really hope I will get control of things back soon. I really want to. And I try my very best. I want to do this tour properly.

Whatever might have happened, we are still seven weeks into this tour. That means just five weeks left till we reach our half way point. Which is Christmas. 

It's still quite a few days to go till I'll see my other half again. It's always new obstacles upcoming. There will be days after days and weeks with no contact again. But when I get him on the phone eventually, and hear him say "it's amazing to speak to you", I know I can do this. I know I can get through this for him. When he tells me "we will spend every bank holiday together next year" my heart skips a beat and when he says "we will do something so not Christmassy next year's Christmas" I so look forward to it. And when he tells me that he misses me so much I just know that he feels exactly the same way that I do, even though I actually knew it before. 

When my phone rings after two weeks no contact at all and it is finally him on the other end, it's just the best feeling you can get during a tour. It really is. And when it is not just a ten minutes phone call but a 45 minutes one it is just more amazing. When the infantry soldier you fell in love with tells you he keeps all your pictures around his so called bed space, you just know that he suffers as much as you do. When he tells you he dreams of you each and every night, your heart grows stronger and you know it is so much worth it to go through. Every single day is worth the suffering, the tears, the fear.