The day started out horrible. I got a call at 2am saying things were going bad. The bombings are increasing and they are pissed over there. They have to be put on alert. We are only a week in! It wasn’t supposed to be like this! I didn’t want to believe it. I want this to be over. I WANT THIS TO BE OVER!! I laid there unable to mask my terror as I replayed the conversation in my head and his I love you over and over. All I could think was I just want him home. I want all this fighting to end. I want them all to come home and for everyone and everything to be alright. I wanted families to be whole again and wives, fiances, girlfriends, and family members to not feel the terror that I was feeling anymore. When you hear that news you try and remind yourself and repeat that he or she is coming home and everything will be okay, but you can’t stop that creeping thought of but what if…and then your frozen and thinking of that God awful scenario and your repetitive reassurance isn’t helping anymore. That is what I cannot handle. I can handle the learning to be alone, handling the finances and the responsibilities of our house and family. But I cannot handle the thought of him not coming home, living life without him, or never being able to yell, kiss, hug, and annoy ever again. Guys, my heart is hurting, I’m swallowed with terror, and my face is drenched in my tears right now. The thing that sucks is I am going to have to pick myself back up in a little, continue on, and continue to cling to that hope and prayer that he will make it back home to me. I mean after all he promised. You can’t break promises.