Greg is deploying tonight. He’ll be getting on a big charter plane with the rest of his group at about 3am and it makes me nauseous. Or maybe that’s the pint of cookie dough ice cream I downed trying to ice the stabbing pain I feel in my stomach (and my heart) full of knots. The worst part, or maybe the best thing, is I’m not there to watch him go. We said our goodbyes a few weeks ago at the rinky dinky airport near post. Somehow it seems less real because I’m not there; I don’t have to stand by and let go of his hand as he walks up onto the plane in his uniform. I mind just keeps playing scenes of our time together like a cheesy bat-mitzvah montage to cliché 80s music.
For weeks I have been dreading this day and ignoring this day and denying that today will come. It’s much easier to think that he is only in a different state and he will stay there, just as safe as anyone else in America. But that’s not the case; he’s leaving tonight, in a few hours actually and there is no more denying that this is really happening.
I think I’m going to be sick.