An anonymous combat veteran
I never really loved anything growing up. When I raised my right hand, I knew I loved America, July 4th was my favorite holiday, and I wanted to make a difference. I had no clue what I signed up for. The next thing I know I’m stepping off a plane for my first deployment and I have my first mission. I was in love.
For the next few years, I fell in love with the job. I fell in love with deploying every time I was “healthy” and going on every TDY there was to go to. I was in love with the missions. I loved it. Every time I was home, I wished I was gone. They needed someone; I was their guy. No task was too small and no task was too big. I signed up for all of them. Then, I went back to Iraq, and it was what I thought at the time was my worst deployment. But it was still a deployment. I still loved every minute of it.
That very next weekend after coming back, I met you. I was hooked right away. From then on, we were inseparable, and I had a new love. I went on a few TDYs, and you even flew out to meet me at the completion. I found a new purpose and a new love, being with you, even though I wasn’t the best at showing it.
I was “healthy” to deploy, and they needed someone, so they asked me. But I didn’t ask you. I said “yes” because deploying was what I loved to do. It was all I knew before you. It was my original purpose in life. Fighting the fight, protecting our allies and partners. But you promised to stick by me. I began to love the fight more than I loved you, falling back into my old ways.
This deployment was rough, I distanced myself, shut down my feelings, and only worried about myself because it was all I had ever known. Naturally, this wasn’t fair to you, and you did what you had to do. You broke up with me. I had no idea what to do. At work, I had always been someone they could count on. I let my team down on a mission shortly thereafter. I had no clue how to keep moving.
I started counting the days until I returned home which I had never done before, hoping I could revive us. But, when I got back, I heard nothing from you. Deploying was my only love until I met you. Now, I resent my job, have no love, and can’t wait to get out.
Getting out will make it better, right?
As the Voice of the Veteran Community, The Havok Journal seeks to publish a variety of perspectives on a number of sensitive subjects. Unless specifically noted otherwise, nothing we publish is an official point of view of The Havok Journal or any part of the U.S. government.
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