My Sinking Ship

Two weeks. Five more to go. In all, seven weeks. Seven long, lonely weeks. Let's start from the beginning.

When I first met B, I realized he would be joining the military and told myself not to get close to him. I had been on a continuous "dating-the-asshole" run and figured I'd give this guy a try. He was cute, quiet, funny, and just the right amount of quirky to draw me in. Our first date was, to say the least, awkward; hanging at his house afterward was just as bad. Still, he had the balls to kiss me that night so I knew we'd be hanging out more. The second night we hung out, I kissed him before he could really do anything, mainly to establish that this was a "more-than-friends" relationship we had. We weren't "together", but we weren't talking to any other people either. I'd bring him to school events with my friends and he'd invite me over to hang with his. I knew I wanted to make this more serious by the tenth time we hung out, so I concocted a little scheme: I would slightly flirt with his younger brother by writing "Will You Go Out with (Girl's name)", making him say yes. Then, I crossed out that girl's name and wrote mine, adding a wink to it. (This was a JOKE, just so nobody takes me seriously here). His younger brother nodded dramatically and said, "Oh of course!" As I figured he would, B got "jealous" and took the book from his brother. What I didn't think he'd do is write a questionairre of his own: "Will You Go out with Me?", complete with little check-boxes. I obviously said yes and, well, we were stuck with the knowledge that he'd be leaving in about three months.
During those three months, we only grew closer. He walked three hours to my house after a snow storm, just to spend four hours with me. It was that day that I realized this boy loved me. Loved me more than anyone else ever had. Sure, I'd had other boyfriends. I'd even made the mistake of finding "my one true love" at the lovely age of 16; as all 16-year-old relationships go, it was shit. But even that guy, the one who loved me oh so much, the one who would "do absolutely anything for you" had never ever even thought about walking to see me. But B did. He walked about 8+ miles and all I could do was hug him and try to warm up his poor little red nose. After that day, I wasn't afraid of falling in love with him. He'd already fallen in love with me. If memory serves correct, I told him "I love you" on Christmas morning. Now, after that 16-year-old relationship, I hadn't wanted to rush into anything. The memory of how horribly wrong that went is still fresh with me and I had ground into my head that I would never ever fall in love with anyone from good ol' Rising Sun. Good thing he lives in Conowingo (;

Those three months haved passed, and let me just say this: I am a crack head and B is my cocaine. I had to quit cold-turkey and it is killing me! Perhaps you don't understand yet. I don't sleep well. I think it's because I'm so paranoid of something bad getting me in my sleep that I just wake up every so often to make sure I'm okay. Once I turned 18, my folks let B sleep in the same bed as me 'cause, well, we're responsible and we don't take advantage of such thing. When he was with me, I could sleep for the whole night. If I had a nightmare, I'd just wake him up. "B, I had a nightmare..."
*gruntsnoresniffle* "mmm what about?"
"...zombies..."
and he'd throw his arms over me, snuggle his nose into the back of my head and say, "You're safe baby."
In the morning, when I'd wake up first, I'd just roll over and kiss him; he'd wake up, smile and hug me. I was late to school because it would take us fifteen minutes to just stop tickling, poking, nudging, messing around with one another. We spent close to every minute together; the only days we didn't were school days.

 And now?

Now, I'm alone.

I have no siblings to talk to, my best friend was B, everyone else just can't understand because they've never had this happen to them. I suppose I have my parents and his, but they aren't him. The first week wasn't so bad. I was still warm from his hug, so optimistic it could make a Care Bear sick. And now the  lonliness is hitting me. I can't think of anything without thinking of B. Name it, he's there in some memory. I never thought I'd feel so strongly towards somebody so soon after my other relationshit. But I have. I feel so utterly emo. I hate it! Every day with B here, I was happy. I mean, okay, I had some emotional days where I felt like crap but I was never unhappy. I'm not "unhappy" now; I'm just lonely. I guess I'm being selfish. I'm not the only one suffering here. If anything, I should be happy; when he mailed his address to us, he made sure I knew that his phone died at the airport, not that he hung up one me. Even in bootcamp, I'm one of the first things on his mind. Some days I get really scared that he'll find somebody else while he's there, since he isn't talking to me at all. Then I think about all the things he did or has done since getting in there and I remember that he walked 8 miles in the snow just to see me.

Next week, I'll only have to wait 5 weeks until I see him again. Yes, they're long. Yes, they're horrible. Yes, they're lonely.

And yes. They are all worth it.