Commentary
I never really loved anything growing up. When I raised my right hand, I knew I loved America, July 4th was my favorite holiday, and I wanted to make a difference. I had no clue what I signed up for. The next thing I know I’m stepping off a plane for my first deployment and I have my first mission. I was in love.
For the next few years, I fell in love with the job. I fell in love with deploying every time I was “healthy” and going on every TDY (temporary duty) there was to go to. I was in love with the missions. I loved it. Every time I was home, I wished I was gone. They needed someone; I was their guy. No task was too small and no task was too big. I signed up for all of them. Then, I went back to Iraq, and it was what I thought at the time was my worst deployment. But it was still a deployment. I still loved every minute of it.
That very next weekend after coming back, I met you. I was hooked right away. From then on, we were inseparable, and I had a new love. I went on a few TDYs, and you even flew out to meet me at the completion. I found a new purpose and a new love, being with you, even though I wasn’t the best at showing it.
I was “healthy” to deploy, and they needed someone, so they asked me. But I didn’t ask you. I said “yes” because deploying was what I loved to do. It was all I knew before you. It was my original purpose in life. Fighting the fight, protecting our allies and partners. But you promised to stick by me. I began to love the fight more than I loved you, falling back into my old ways.
This deployment was rough. I distanced myself, shut down my feelings, and only worried about myself because it was all I had ever known. Naturally, this wasn’t fair to you, and you did what you had to do. You broke up with me. I had no idea what to do. At work, I had always been someone they could count on. I let my team down on a mission shortly thereafter. I had no clue how to keep moving.
I started counting the days until I returned home which I had never done before, hoping I could revive us. But, when I got back, I heard nothing from you. Deploying was my only love until I met you. Now, I resent my job, have no love, and can’t wait to get out.
Getting out will make it better, right?
This article was first published in The Havok Journal.
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