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Snack Time

I have been excited for weeks.
Fucking weeks, for the fact that you were coming home earlier than expected. coming home this week instead of july.

and last night, when you said it probably wasn't going to happen, was like finding out santa wasn't real. (even though i still hold a bit of hope that there is a giant jolly old elf out there somewhere).

i didn't cry when we got off the phone. instead, i took it out on my mouth in my sleep. i bit the insides of my cheeks until the bled. it is what i do when i'm anxious and stressed.

but i cried today.
and some how feel like it is my fault. like i opened my fucking mouth. like if i wouldn't have said anything, it would mean you would have a seat on the flight. like i took advantage of the fact that you are coming home from war alive at all. some people don't have that same luck. they will never get to be excited about a homecoming ever again.
i should be thankful. and instead, i'm crying and stomping my feet like a fucking little three year old brat.

i don't even know what else to say.
i'm disappointed.
and really fucking upset.

9:10 a.m. - 2011-06-14

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