two faces

I keep relationship boxes. Decorated shoeboxes really filled with gifts, pictures, letters...anything from the person that can fit in the box that I feel should stay gets included. But nothing more than the content of the box remains for me about the person. These boxes live in various places throughout my bedroom and in an attempt to declutter earlier, I stumbled upon my Trevor box. This one is different from all of the rest because this was the one relationship that ended on neither of our terms.

And finding that box reopened the wound. I felt it the second he got killed. A sharp pain stabbed my thigh and wouldn't leave (it's still hasn't completly faded). And getting that phone call later that day from his mother, telling me to drive over to the post...I knew. I could hear it in her voice. It actually kind of sickens me to think about him. I was mad when he deployed and I had no right to be. But I was mad at Trevor for leaving me here and although I forgave him...I never told him. Sure, we'd email back and forth and I'd act like the perfect Army girlfriend/future Army wife, mailing over gifts for his entire unit on the Holidays or just cause.

More than anything though, I miss him. I think he was my true counterpoint in every way imaginable. No. No thinking. He was.

And it just really sucks that I found my Trevor box today. My friend deploys in nine days for his second tour and it's bad juju to think of your guys not coming back right before they leave. Or ever.

It's never goodbye, it's see you in a year.

And I support the troops 100 billion percent, but will someone please tell me what we're fighting for because these guys don't even know themselves. And that's probably the scariest thought of all.

Not knowing, that is.