And Now Cammy Cracks

I don't know if I've mentioned this before, but I had a serious boyfriend in middle/high school, we were together for most of the time from the sixth grade up until graduation. We had a fairly amicable split, more out of pragmatism than lack of feelings for one another (our lives were just going in different directions). We haven't had much contact since then, but trade occasional updates. I am not "in love" with him anymore, but still care about him quite a bit.

So, I was so happy to hear from him a few days ago, I needed that old anchor amidst the cruddy circus that is the rest of my life right now. Then, once I actually read his message, I discovered that he is deploying for Iraq soon.

I am a camel, that is the straw, and this is my back, buckling and crumbling and turning to dust.

Am I a terrible person for being more upset about this than about my own dad deploying? I guess the difference is that my daddy has been a soldier ever since I was born, this is his job. That has always been a part of my life. But it just plain seems unfair for kids I grew up with to be going over there to play chicken in the desert with brainwashed, weaponized teenagers.

This is the boy that gave me my first kiss, my first bouquet of roses, the first boy to tell me he loved me. We met in band class, and he used to slip notes into my clarinet case. He spent countless evenings dealing with me when ED was bad, and was the only person I felt comfortable eating in front of. He came over and read to me when I was sick with a bad reaction to my pain meds after having my wisdom teeth out. We cried together on September 11, 2001 (this was also the day he vowed to join the military himself). He was my date to senior prom. He worked double shifts (including graveyard) at CVS for an entire year to help pay for us to go to Italy together. While were there, on the ferry to Capri, he caught my vomit in his favorite hat when I got seasick. He picked out a star for us that was "ours," so we could each look at it and be "together" no matter where we were. When he graduated from basic training, I felt like my body was physically swelling with pride for him.

Can you even see the same set of stars in the sky from Iraq?

I gave him the talk which is, in retrospect, much like the one from Jenny in the movie 'Forest Gump." I told him not to try to be a hero. If something bad happens, run. Turn the other way, get out of range, protect yourself no matter what. For every story about people who pulled of amazing feats of valor and lived to tell about it, there are many who were not so lucky, so please don't risk it, don't risk yourself.

His only response was "You know that's not the kind of person that either of us wants me to be."

What, the living kind? Yes, goddamnit, that is exactly what I want.

This is all terribly myopic and selfish, but right now I have the emotional stability of an amphetamine-riddled gnat, and I am pretty much beyond caring.

And I think that T. is already starting to play mind games with me. How can one person make you feel like a goddess with the world in the palm of your hands at some times, but at other times like a beetle scurrying around looking for a rock to crawl under? I can't tell if it's him or me that is making this so confusing, I really have no business trying to deal with any kind of serious relationship right now.

Apologies for yet another rant, doom and gloom, whinefest. I promise that at some point I'll actually have something coherent and relevant and hopefully semi-insightful to share, but for now I am just tired of everything.