three months.

Last night, while out to dinner with my friends, a notification popped up on my phone. It read, "3 months to Deployment". 

Oh.

I remember when Eric first told me about this deployment. It was in Corvallis; September 2012. It was the first home football game of the season at OSU; A wonderful, warm day spent with my closest friends. After the game, in the crowded living room of Abby & Dallas' apartment, as everyone else drunkenly reviewed the events of the game, drank beers, and discussed the night's future events, Eric blurted to me: "So, I'm going to Afghanistan."

Not the most eloquent thing he's ever said, but also, how can you eloquently tell your girlfriend you're going to war?

I said nothing for a few moments, and just let myself feel my stomach plummet to the futon we were sitting on. The best thing I could think to do was get up, walk outside, and take two deep breaths before bursting into tears. Eric wasn't far behind me, and it wasn't long before he was holding me as I sobbed into his neck. My worst fear had come true. As far as I was concerned, the trip was over. We packed up, told everyone we were heading out of town early, and had a silent drive back to Beaverton.

Here we are, almost a year and a half later, and a simple notification on my phone floors me the same way that day in Corvallis floored me. The sting hasn't dulled. I haven't gotten any better at handling this, and time is ticking. 

These past 17 months have been pretty cyclical. I start out with a breakdown. A big, emotional, tearful purge that leaves me feeling relieved, but doesn't fix anything. Turns out, crying doesn't stop a war. 

Next, I feel a false, somewhat forced sense of refreshment. All of a sudden, I'm ready to take this challenge on head-first. The inner dialogue goes something like-- "So many people have been through this before, right? Right! People with WAY more challenges than Eric and I have; Couples who are pregnant, families with special needs children. This is nothing. This is fortunate. We can do this."

That mindset lasts for a little while. But slowly, my conviction gets chipped away, little by little. It happens when going to a couple's event alone. Then upon realizing we've never spent a Valentine's Day together, and won't for another two years. Even more when I remember he won't be able to be a groomsman in the Hogan wedding. And even more when I see the news stories of locals that won't be coming back home. The worst is seeing other people getting dismissed from this deployment while Eric stays on the hook. There are daily, hourly reminders that these 12 months are approaching, and approaching hard.

The cycle comes to its crescendo when I get the final reminder I can take. Last night, it was that stupid notification on my phone. 

I guess there's no real point to this story, other than: I'm scared. I'm scared because it's new, and it's unknown, and it's a big deal. The only comfort I can provide myself is the reminder that it will end. Eventually, it will end. 

Eric, I apologize for not being better at this. I apologize for putting pressure on you to comfort me when you're the one that needs comfort the most. I'm sorry that I add to the stress, and I'm sorry that my logic is overpowered by my emotions.

One more week until I get to pick him up from the Portland airport. In one week, the six weeks will be over. These six weeks will be the longest we've been apart, and I am hoping that I somehow picked up on expert military girlfriend methods on how to be sane while your significant other is away. If I did, I'm most definitely unaware of it.

But, before May 20th 2014, is the 81 days we get before it. I think they will be the sweetest 81 days we've had yet.