Weird dreams.

I bought Blogs of War the other day at Barnes and Noble. Don't ask me why. It must have been some subconscious act of self distruction. I read late into the night last night. And when I finally fell asleep I had the weirdest dreams.

First I was a Navy Corpsman and I was helping some wounded guy in Iraq that had been shot. He was dead, and I knew it, but I was still trying to help him. What does that say about my stubborness.

Then in another dream I was home and trying to wake up Kevin so that he wouldn't be late for work. I used to have to do that all the time. He'd have slept through a train driving through the room. I don't know for sure, but I think he gets to work on time now. All by his lonesome. I'd kind of like to have to wake him...Oh well.

And then I had this dream that our house was like the dinning hall, and guys (Marines) would come over everyday to eat. I would cook massive amounts of food, leave it on the table, the front door open, and the would just come at their leisure and eat. I guess I wouldn't mind that so much. Company is nice. Everyday is a bit much, but it would give me some purpose to perform aside from my husband and children.

~~~

Spoke with Kevin yesterday, (Sunday for him). I think I have a short circuit somewhere. I just wanted to bawl my eyes out. I miss him. Everything is reminding me of him. Aside from the fact that our son looks just like him. It's like waking up to a younger Kevin every morning. Very bizarre. The other day at storage, I found a box of clothes that he had just tossed in a box along with some other stuff. It smelled like him. I haven't smelled that smell in so long. I had to get out of there before I had a total mental break down. At some point I have to go back though because there is more of his stuff that needs fresh boxes. I thought about washing his clothes, but I like knowing I can go there and smell his smell if I ever get the nerve to do it again. I say "the nerve" because I just hate crying...and when I let myself think too much I cry. I let myself cry for like 2 seconds yesterday...for the first time in a long time. I feel like if I just let go I might never stop the tears.
I keep thinking I just want to go home. But *home* is him...and they won't let me go yet. The meanies.
He was talking about how if he doesn't get the orders for us he'll wait until February to come home. That will be a year since we last saw him. I'm trying not to be completely pissed off. It wouldn't do me any good anyways. (*#$^@)*&#^!#*&$^@#&*^%)*($#% Sorry, that was me throwing a "cyber hissy fit".

Kevin, pre-USMC, with Anthony.

Miss ya, hon.