Back to the dream, or just parts of it now since it's not as clear. It was pretty weird, as all my dreams tend to be. I had to live through seeing my husband leave again. I mean, the first time was pretty awful, why does my head have to do this to me again? All I remember now, is all the families and soldiers flying over together. That's right--in my dream the families were allowed to accompany their soldiers. I don't remember much about being there, but it's inaccurate anyways because I don't know what it's like over there. We all flew back after a while (A week? A month? It's hard to tell time in a dream.) I felt so happy sitting there next to Jon as we flew home together. There were spouses sitting with their men and kids running around the plane. The way the spouses were acting made me realize that this wasn't the end of it. It was towards the end of the flight that I realized that our husbands were going to leave us behind as they went back. My heart fell. How could I have not known this all along? I was grateful, at least, that I figured it out before I made a fool out of myself. We all got off the plane, only to have a farewell ceremony and we all watched them take off with the theme song of 2001: A Space Odyssey (audio clip) playing in the background. My mom appeared out of thin air and I was holding back so she wouldn't see me in pain. I hate when my mom sees me like that. The plane circled and was still flying really low when it approached us, so I waved, hoping to see my husband one last time. But every soldier was turned away from those windows, looking in the complete opposite direction. They were either avoiding looking at their families or they were trying to see them one last time, but looking out the wrong window. I didn't know what to think of that.
I woke up at this point. I rolled over, relieved that this was just a dream. But of course, the bed was still empty on the other side, so that feeling went away quickly. It wasn't sadness settling in, but reality. I'm just used to things being the way they are now. Sure, sometimes the numbness leaves me and I feel sad, hopeless, or angry, but for the most part I have settled down. Routines, which I normally try to avoid, can be a lifesaver in times like these.