Last week was a bad week.

I hit the third month of the deployment at just the same moment that my country decided to send troops back to Iraq. I didn’t handle this well for reasons that I think are obvious. Because the man I love is over there and my head races to really scary places. So, naturally, this led to me picking a fight with him on FaceTime. Because that’s how mature people handle their frustrations. They place the blame exactly where it doesn’t belong… and get a little bitchy.

Needless to say, this was a bad move. And it made the week worse so that I came home one night to fall into a puddle of frustrated tears. And I wanted the man I love to know how upset I was. Not because I blamed him. Not exactly. More so because I wanted to fall into arms and ugly cry on his shoulder. But, that’s not possible because he’s deployed. So, I sent him a message and told him I was feeling.

I didn’t hear from him for two days. So, I assumed that he was mad. Or annoyed. Or something. And then, I got a text message saying that someone loved me because flowers had just arrived at the church. Thinking of you, said the card. Maybe that’s all I needed to know. That despite all of the distance and missed calls, he is still thinking of me. That our love will get through this.