Veteran's Day

 

It was a little over seven years ago that my entire normalcy of family and life completely changed when my older brother enlisted in the United States Army: Infantry. At the young age of twelve years old, I was naïve and unaware of how this decision would impact me. I was in a fantasy, adoring the attention I received when I told people that my brother was soon off to boot camp. This amazing feeling I received from my newly found fame soon faded away as the harsh reality set in.

Being an Army sister is not a desirable life by any means, but it is my life. I've decided to embrace the positive moments and appreciate those rather than dwell in the negativity associated with the military. I cling to hope, hope for seeing my brother again as well as hope that every other military family in the country will see their loved ones as well.

I belong to a family, different from my immediate family and different than any other family I could possibly create in the world. Members of this family include other military family members, such as military wives, sisters, mothers, fathers, children.

Veteran's Day is something I celebrate each and everyday, not just for one day in November. It means more to me, as someone who has close affiliations with the military. Today is in honor of each and every man and woman who sacrificed everything for the freedom of this country. They are the brave souls who took the responsibility and signed away their life so that Americans can appreciate these freedoms, most take for granted. Today is the day to appreciate these soldiers, who we don't for the other 364 days of the year. Veteran's Day should be recognized as everyday.

While we are irritated that we must go into work at 7 a.m., some troops overseas have been up for weeks without any sleep. When we get frustrated and claim our day is ruined due to traffic, U.S. soldiers are watching their best friends, their brothers, die in front of them. As we complain about an employee of a restaurant getting our food wrong, some soldiers are praying that they'll have a meal tonight. While we gather at holidays and complain of our family members, men and women in the military are praying and hoping that they'll be able to meet their son/daughter or see their family at some point.

Appreciate all that you are blessed with in your life. Count your blessings. Never forget the men and women making the largest sacrifices for our freedoms.

Happy Veteran's Day!

My Savior

For the past few days, I have been in a debate with myself over where to continue with my story. Should I discuss who I am today before resorting back to my past and how it's shaped me into the person that I am today? Should I discuss the anxiety, stress, fear, worry, and panic I experienced after the months that I lost everything that I had known as normal?
I've ultimately decided to dedicate this next blog solely to the one man who I can always count on, who has never let me down, who encourages me, who loves me unconditionally, who has showed me that every single guy in the world will hurt me.
You are my savior, in more ways than I could ever repay you.
From my first encounter with my reality, lying in between the bed sheets with my boyfriend at the time and my best friend at that time, you escorted me out of the room, out of the house, out of the harsh reality. You stayed by my side, listening to me vent, allowing me to cry on your shoulder, and lean on you for support. You said all the right things to make me forget what I was dealing with. For those brief, precious moments, I began to fall in love with you. It didn't even matter that my makeup was smeared down my face and I was hyperventilating. You were just there.
When I continued to put the pieces of a broken relationship together, you were at my side, helping me gather the pieces and attempt to fit them together. Even though you told me he wasn't worth it, that I deserved more, you still remained there, even offering your aid in mending something already past the point of being fixable.
I never had to explain myself to you, never had to unveil my deepest dark secrets, as you already knew them. You lived them with me, you saw firsthand how quickly my life was falling apart. You refrained from judging me. I can't tell you enough, no matter how many words I place in this blog, just how much I really do appreciate you.
Thank you for making me stronger, for giving me the courage when I needed it the most, for never losing faith in me, for never giving up.
Brett, you have guided me through my roller coaster ride of an insane life. No matter how easy I made it for you to walk away, you never did.
No one will ever understand the relationship we have and that's okay. Some days, we're best friends, some days were enemies, and other days we act like we're married. We yell, we scream, we love, we laugh. You may turn your head away from me, but you've never and will never turn your back on me. I will move on with my life, make mistakes, fall in and out of love, attempt to make some sense of this crazy world, but ultimately, I will always run back to you. Thank you for being my best friend, my hater, my lover, my rock to lean on, my shoulder to cry on, my twin, my polar opposite, my Brett.

What is Love?

I was in seventh grade, an awkward time of life, when I met a boy who would become my first boyfriend. Under the influence of alcohol, I thought he was a gem. He seemed so sweet, so caring, so nice, so thoughtful, so Prince Charming perfect that I allowed these misperceptions to guide my feet toward him.
It's here that I feel I should take a brief pause in this story. I was a middle school student, envious of all of the emerging relationships surrounding me at that time. I was awkward, embarrassed of all the changes suddenly occurring to my body. I was a troubled, innocent girl with a deep desire for the "love" I saw everywhere I looked. After growing up with stories of Disney princesses finding "the one" upon first eye contact, I was brainwashed into thinking this is how love occurs. Granted, I didn't consider my young adolescence and its factor in this but, regardless, I was on a mission to pursue this perfect love story.
Let's resume, back to the high school party I was at. Yes, I was a seventh grader at a high school party, never mind that fact. Anyway, we approached each other and within seconds, I had accomplished my first kiss. Looking back, it's not that I regret the quick step of my first kiss. At the time, I was on Cloud 9, feeling invincible. My shy personality was overshadowed by the liquor and I was in love. I felt so head over heels for someone that it wasn't until he pulled away that my brief fantasy ended. "What's your name, sweetie?"
Sweetie? That's something my mother would call me. Still believing this love story, I smiled and told him, "Sarah." He told me his name was Kyle. I spent the remainder of the crazy night right by his side, following him around, proud to have my arm linked with his. Envious girls turned and displayed faces of disgust that this perfect, charming man was now taken.
This love story soon faded in reality, although I, myself, didn't realize it had. We were exclusive, or so he told me. I remained faithful, somewhat like a puppy dog obeying his every command. This is how it worked, right? This is what love is, right? He would go off with his friends, but I would stay at home. Kyle explained that it was disrespectful of me to hang out with my friends, particularly of the opposite sex. Yet, I never dared to question who he was hanging out with.
My best friend, Alexis, and her boyfriend of the time would come out with Kyle and me on a regular basis. I felt so much more older, more mature, more respected by random strangers when the four of us would go out on double dates or to parties. It was like my love story would never end. Little did I know, Alexis would surely play a part in destroying this peaceful lie I was living.
What is love?
Is it this fantasy I was living or was it something more? Upon the first time I had ever seen Kyle, surrounded by girls of all ages but all similarly beautiful, I should have seen the red flags being thrown in the air, warning me to walk away. I was captivated. This curiosity brought me to walk directly up to this god-like man. Is this how it happens, love I mean? Does it come randomly, quickly, granting you confidence to walk up but making you self-conscious the longer you're in it? What is love?