It’s been 56 days since I last saw my fiancé. I won’t get to see him for another 74 days. That’s 130 days away from each other. 130 days in which I’m lucky to get to talk to him for a few minutes, or even get a message from him. 130 days of having to worry that it might be the last time I get to hear his voice. I love my Marine and I am so proud of him. But every second away from him I feel like I am being torn in half.
By this point, my friends and family think I should “be over it,” and be OK with everything that’s going on. In fact, that’s what most people that know my situation tell me. To just stop crying cause everything will be over soon. They even go as far as to guilt me for being selfish. Because if I’m upset, I need to think about how bad it is for him. I do. I think about that all the time. I miss my Marine, and some days I break down just because I hear his name or I hear one of our songs. Please forgive me for missing my soulmate, my twin flame.