Today was one of those days. The kind of day where you don't want to get out of bed, much less make the bed. You end up getting up at 11:30am, mope around the house and make coffee at 2pm for a quick wake up. Yeah, I had that kind of day.

But I had hope. I didn't want to be another casualty of the weekend blues. It's 6pm and I decide to enjoy some sunshine outside of the house. I am feeling hungry, but not sure what I want to eat. The best way to find out what you're hungry for is to just drive around until you see something that you like. So, I headed to my local downtown area which is a good place to mingle and get lost in crowds of people. That's what I thought.

I casually strolled down the street, watching couples wrapped around each other, arm in arm. Friends smiling, laughing with each other, talking about boys. Girls eating frozen yogurt with their boyfriends, looking at each other wondering how the night is going to end. "Dear god," I tell myself, "I wish I had someone to laugh with."

Standing at the crosslight, I think to myself that this is what it must feel like for military women, trying to maintain a normal, happy life while keeping negative thoughts about their sons, husbands, fiancés or boyfriends in Iraq. Matt is in transit, traveling for a little bit of R&R thereby causing me a little bit of stress. I think, "There are men fighting for our freedom, while everyone walks around in the US like there is no war. Innocent-looking people oblivious to the danger our fellow friends put themselves in, eating, enjoying the night as if there is no bloodshed, no death, no suffering. Why? How? Don't they know?" The light turns green and the little walking man indicates that I should start walking. My body heats up, flushed burning with an internal fire. My arms crossed, I can feel sweat building up in my fists and my face burning with a fever. My heart races, palpitations. "No," I tell myself, "Not here, not now."

I see a cooking store and walk in to avoid dealing with myself. Perhaps pretty looking things will distract me from reality for a few moments. The yellow Tuscan bowls are so beautiful. I see pots, pans, cooking utensils, glasses, cups, things that I would love to use but wished I could share with Matt. But he's not home yet... soon, very soon. We could be cooking together in the kitchen, experimenting with new recipes and ideas. I miss him. Soo much that I can feel the pressure building up in my eyes. "No, not here!" I tell myself again. A sales person asks me if I need any help, I quietly shake my head and keep my head low down to avoid eye contact.

I really miss having family around, someone to talk to, someone to hug and bury my face when I need to cry. I miss having someone that I can just call who understands military life. Where are MY people? There aren't any support groups where I live, there never has been. But for now, I have some four legged babies who bring me dead rats with no head (That was SO last night). But I still miss Matt. He's supposed to be home soon, but this is really killing me. Can't we just get this over with now so that we can go on with our lives together? Happily ever after? Please?

I hold my breathe and dash back to the parking lot while the pressure is starting to build up in my chest. My legs feel weak. I can't breathe. There are a lot of people around me, couples, arm in arm, hugging, kissing... ugh, I dash to my car. And all of a sudden, there I am leaving the parking lot. I drive out into the dark evening and finally release a sob, only loud enough for me to hear.

And without food...