I haven't posted in, what feels like, forever. I decided that it was extremely necessary for me to take a brief hiatus and spend as much time as possible with D. On Sunday she moved back to California. Her man is coming home so very soon from Iraq, and while I am only 5+ days away from seeing my husband, I know that I must let go of him one last time while D is able to sleep by her man's side from now until forever. It kills me to not have my husband here and now that D is gone I have to adjust to lonely life I had, once again. The one I had before D came home from California back in September. The life I had while she was home was very interesting to say the least. A lot of us (friends) went out to dinner Friday night. Kind of like a last supper type of deal. So after we all finished at the Roadhouse we went back to L's house for a going away party. Everything was going all right until D decided to go to Wal-mart with someone. I'm still not sure what they were going there for. So while D was gone, I ended up having a confrontation with one of our "friends." I was asked why I was giving the dirty looks to him and I was outraged that he had the nerve to ask me. Not too long ago this kid decided to tell D that I was an effing bitch and blahdy blahdy blah. When she told me that he said this, I tried for the longest time to figure out why, out of all people, he would tell that to my best friend. I guess the reason behind him talking about me was because one night D and I were at Denny's and him and one of his friends showed up and I introduced him to someone else as 'Dumbass' which has been his nickname for a long time because of his last name. Apparently this outraged him and he couldn't confront me about it first, instead he had to go and talk about me behind my back to my best friend and then act like everything is kosher the next time he sees me at a party. I told him the reason for my dirty looks was because he had been talking about me behind my back and didn't have the audacity to say it to my face. His response was "Okay, you're a f*cking bitch. I said it to your face." I was astonished that he had to wait until I said something first to come out and say it to my face. I asked him why he had to go and say stuff about me to my best friend and asked him if he really thought she wasn't going to tell me. I then proceeded to tell him that he really is a Dumbass if he's going to go and do something like that and that he lacks a lot of intelligence for doing such a thing. I went down stairs so that I could have a cigarette and try to calm down. That’s when I had the second confrontation of the night. I bumped into some random kid that I didn’t even know. He noticed Tony’s dog tags hanging around my neck and questioned me about them. I started telling him that Tony is coming home soon and how excited I am about the whole ordeal. He asked me what branch he is in and when I responded with “He is in the Army,” I received the utmost disrespect from this kid. In a completely disgusted tone he sneered, “He should’ve been a Marine!” I think this angered me more than any other comment I have received so far during this deployment. First of all, what the hell difference does it make what branch of the military my husband is in. DO NOT tell me what he should have been, should be, or could be. People need to realize that he is my husband. Not some random person that I’ve only met once in my life. I love my husband more than anything in this world and I will defend him until the moment I take my last breath! Second of all, who the hell is he to make that kind of remark when he’s not doing anything nearly half as great with his life. I eventually hit my breaking point and I knew that if I didn’t walk away, I was going to hit him! I decided to try and be the bigger person and did walk away. I went back upstairs to try and calm down, once again. I immediately, and drunkenly, went into the kitchen and got a knife. My youngest neighbor was standing there and realized I had a knife and tried to knock it out of my hands, causing me to drop only my cigarettes. Of course my cigarettes took priority so as I bent down to pick them up, my neighbor took the knife from me. Not that I planned on actually using it, but it was a good thing he got it away from me. I ended up talking to one of my female friends about what had happened and she asked me to point him out. We headed back down stairs so I could show her who he was. As I walked by him, he tried to talk to me which is when I told him to f*ck off. He really should’ve known to just keep his mouth shut after that, but nope. He just had to keep jabber jawing away and told me that my husband has more balls than he does being over in Iraq, in the middle of a war zone. Now this comment wouldn’t have bothered me so much if it weren’t for the fact that he was grinning and half laughing, while saying it. I got right in his face and began screaming at him, when a handful of people came running over and pulled me back. My neighbor pushed me back into a corner and told me to calm down. I started to cry and told him to turn around and look at the smile on the kid’s face. He wasn’t sincere with what he was saying. He was just trying to make himself seem like the good guy in the situation because I made him realize that what he said was wrong and completely out of line. That’s when my neighbor finally put his hands up behind his head and told me that he really didn’t care anymore if I went after the kid. I was instructed to pretend that he was holding me back. I grabbed my bottle of Malibu Rum off of the beruit table and began “pushing” my neighbor back in the direction of where the kid was standing. The moment I got close enough, I reached over my neighbor and swung my bottle, definitely hitting kid who disrespected my husband. My next aim was right for his face. At that point, my sister came running over and whisked me away. I clung to a 2x4 beam for dear life, but I guess I didn’t hold on tight enough (not to mention I was completely wasted). I found myself outside and pinned down chest first on the hood of my car by my sister. I begged her to let me go as the kid walked by me and told me that I was f*cking psycho. I began screaming multiple obscenities while my sister kept slamming her hand over my mouth to get me to shut up. As soon as the kid’s car pulled out of the driveway, I was fine, but not without looking directly at my sister and telling her I hated her, as I waltzed back into the house. I didn’t really hate her. I was more, or less, mad that she didn’t let me scream all the things that I wanted to, at the kid. I joined the rest of the party inside and waited while one of my other friends went and picked D up. Not too long after she got back, another fight broke out. This fight, however, involved a group of guys, so fists were flying everywhere. I looked up and saw one of my friends fall to the floor and as I tried to run over and make sure that he was okay my sister had her boyfriend hold me back so I wouldn’t accidentally get hurt. I am friends with all of the guys that were fighting. I didn’t want to choose sides. I just wanted it all to stop and I wanted to make sure that my friend who was lying on the floor was okay. With tears running down my face, I told Eric (my sister’s boyfriend) that these people are my friends and begged him to let me go. I finally weaseled my way out of grip and ran over to Anthony. I dropped to my knees right beside him to make sure that he was okay and we were finally able to pull him to his feet. He looked me in the eyes and told me to move out of the way because I am sweetheart and he didn’t want anything to happen to me. One of the other kids came running back inside and Anthony tried to break away and go after him, so I grabbed his hand and held him back as D and I were able to drag him to the floor and hold him down, until the other kid was finally taken out of the house. Things finally calmed down and everyone seemed to enjoy themselves throughout the rest of the party.

On Saturday, I spent the day with D, of course. I don’t really remember what we did. Now that I am trying to recall everything, it just seems like a giant blur. I just remember my stomach being filled with knots, knowing that the next day I would have to let go of my best friend. I spent the night at her house and joined her family for breakfast the next morning. We did some last minute shopping and then headed to the airport. The same airport where I’ve had to bring Tony multiple times already and let go of him as well. It never gets easy when it is someone you are close to. My husband is on the other half of the world and now my best friend is on the other side of the country. After D’s plane took off, I went and did what I do best. I got another tattoo. I figured that it’s better than drinking myself into a stupor. I went to Jamey and we started my sleeve. I am very pleased with the outcome so far. I got the outline started and on the 18th I will be getting some of it colored in. Tony will be home to see that part of it and get some done as well.
I really haven’t figured out what to do with myself yet. I have been spending more time than I want to at work. I’m keeping myself busy and making money at the same time. I guess you can’t wrong with that. The only downside is that I’m subjecting myself to more drama, the more often I’m there. I’m starting class on Monday, so I’m looking forward to that. And the only other thing I can do to keep busy is count down the days until I get to see my sweetheart once again.