I have the right to stand my ground.

Kaeli woke me up at 4am with a hairball attack and I am now wide awake. I think she left a little pool of hairball-goo on the bed, but I haven't turned on the lights to take a look. It's still very early. The only thing I could think of doing was to lay in bed wide awake blinking at the dark ceiling or head to the living room, turn on the TV and blog.

I'm still wide awake, wishing that I could go back to sleep. But quite frankly, my brain is running pretty fast right now. I don't like it when people think that because I am Matt's girlfriend, I am automatically his spokesperson. I am not and will not be, ever. Don't make me do something I don't want to do.

Over the last 12 months of Matt's deployment, I can only name a handful of people who have sincerely asked me, "No really, how are you doing?". I cry at the thought of that because it's really sad to know that everyone only cares to ask about Matt. There is a whole other side of stress being on the home front that some easily dismiss and deny. It is so refreshing to know that there are some decent people who wholeheartedly try to understand what its like being on this side of the fence. This entire experience is constantly challenging and never-ending. I am tired of people who want a feel good answer when it comes to Matt. It's just so easy to cover up the reality of war and dismiss its challenges altogether. War isn't a neutral subject, which unfortunately includes human life and death. There are families involved, loved ones, parents, children, friends and more importantly, emotions involved.

I felt extremely uncomfortable today when someone expressed that I shouldn't be offended when I am frequently asked, "How Matt is doing? When is he coming home?" simply because I talk to him every day. There are just some things you don't know.

Did you know... that I still cry every week? I miss him so much that it hurts because I love him so much. My heart feels like something is missing, deep down inside because I come home to an empty nest and I feel lonely. It's depressing, knowing that the person you care and want to spend the rest of your life with is in Iraq - arms stretch away from harm. But you think it's easy. My cats, Sabi, Kaeli and Misty just don't replace good old human touch like big fat-grandma hugs, kisses or even back rubs. I am tired of forcing a smile on my face and being strong for my friends because I have the right to be myself. It's easy to say that you understand, but you really don't until you've stood in my shoes for a second.

What you don't know is that my heart drops every time the phone cuts dead mid-sentence, leaving me wondering if his trailer got blown up or if someone is hurt. I have to pretend not to get nervous every time Matt tells me he's gone outside the wire, because there's a fairly good chance that he could have gotten hurt. Yes, people seem to offer a sigh of relief when I tell them that he's not at the front lines, but that isn't a realistic substitute for safety. "Oh, maybe he could get pretend to have an accident and get sent home!" some people say. Wow, it ceases to amaze me.

What you don't know is that I don't know all the information and answers of his job duties, actions and where-abouts. I don't ask and he doesn't tell. It's easy to let my mind run ten-million miles an hour. When I am not on the phone with Matt, I try very hard to not let my brain wander into the treacherous territory of the "list of things that could happen if you're in Iraq". It's really not that easy, but with time I have become more numb than other people. I do have my high and low periods which make me feel bi-polar sometimes, but this just isn't how people have relationships. Our current relationship is unique, unlike other couples. Sometimes I manage to control my thoughts, while other times I am not so lucky. It's a constant battle for balance.

I have endured a lot of stress over the time of deployment and faced a lot of challenges on my own. I prefer to keep to myself, even withholding information from friends because they just don't know what to say. There are people who don't even acknowledge that Matt is in Iraq - and I respect that. I have also often heard that I need to stay strong for Matt and put on a good face, but this just doesn't work for me. Long distance relationships require a lot of trust and open-honesty. If you take that away, then there's really no point in being a relationship at all! Why lie about how you feel? But there are times that I have to lie - I pretend not to notice when the phone gets disconnected and I don't hear from him for hours on end. I pretend a lot of things - and pretending to be strong for MY friends just isn't something I want to do.

Did you know I also pretend not to notice when I hear the quiet stress in Matt's voice? I have a long list of saved messages on my cell phone from before he deployed. Sometimes I listen to all of them in a sitting over and over again when I miss him like crazy. The first couple of messages are chipper and high-energy, then gradually you start to notice the fatigue in his voice, then quiet, quieter and then just sadness. It kills me to know that the person I love sounds defeated and will come home a changed man. Every phone call, we gauge our conversations based on our initial greeting, "Hey baby". If he greets me enthusiastically, I know we're going to have a fantastic conversation. If he sounds resigned and tired, I know that something has happened and he won't want to to talk about it. During those phone calls, I pretend not to notice that something is wrong and instead offer insights to all the good things that's happened in my day. It's difficult running a conversation like that, because what DO you say when shit happens in Iraq? I don't know - my deployment manual didn't cover that topic.

I don't have a Navy-base full of friends that I can call and vent with that understand exactly how I feel. I don't know of any military counseling services that are available for free to unmarried significant others. I don't know of any other military wives that are strong enough to help me with my burden. I just don't know anything and it feel so alone and isolating sometimes.

I do know that I don't want to be Matt's fan club leader. I have survived a lot of stress and I chose not to pile more onto my lap. If you understood what it's like, then you simply wouldn't question it. I don't like how this makes me feel, but I chose to stand my ground because I have the right.