Home is apart of us. It's in the scars we have on our knees and elbows, in the memories that surface when we sleep. I don't think you can ever really leave. ~Home Again, by Kristin Hannah (an author that all of my friends should be reading by now)
The only time I doubt what kind of military spouse I am is when I'm at DIA waiting for my plane so I can go back to Seattle. That's the only time that I think that maybe he shouldn't re-enlist for another couple years, that we should just get out in a year and go home. But home is also where he is. Where we are or should be, when we get to be together.
Is wanting everything such a bad sin? I know what we should be doing for the next couple years, a plan that I've thought about over and over and over again and that should better our future. But sometimes I miss the sky so much that I ache. And I know he feels that ache too.
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