Dear Diary

Dear Diary,
I saw him yesterday. He looked good. God, I missed him so much. 72 days is too long to go without seeing my best friend. Or my old best friend. I guess I can’t really call him that after not really having a conversation for almost a year.
We used to be so close, what happened?
Oh yeah, I pushed him away, because everyone says you don’t really know what you have until it is gone, and I pushed away the one person who was there for me. My parents always told me that I would regret pushing him away, and I do, because after 72 days, the best thing I got was him telling me about food, but that was the most glorious conversation I’ve had in awhile.
He marched onto the field, Diary, to this song and my mom and I held hands and sobbed, because after 72 days, we would finally get to see our soldier again. They stood there, at attention, and once the drill sergeant said we could go see our soldier, a flood of people were rushing to go down to the field. My family and I were maneuvering to get down there the fastest way possible, and once we got down there, we saw him, and he hugged my dad for like three minutes, tears streaming down his face. It seemed as if he was different, as if maybe he missed all of us. He hugged my mom, and then my grandma, and he looked at me, and then looked away.
That’s all I got. A look. After 72 days, he didn’t even want to see me. It broke my heart. As if we hadn’t been through sixteen years of struggles together. My dad told him to hug me, and while I held him tight, he had his arms out, as if I was a parasite that he didn’t want to touch. It hurt, and while you may think I’m being dramatic, Diary, I have never had a real struggle in my life. Yes, my dad was deployed four times, but I had him and my mom. I’ve moved six times, but I always had him and my mom. And him leaving was the first thing I had to go through alone, because my parents would always say “you guys weren’t even that close”, so they were out, and my friends didn’t know what it was like to lose someone like that. Yes, they had people leave, but they didn’t understand, no matter how much they think they did.
He changed me into a different person, and I would tell people “basic training changes a person” and while everyone thought I meant the person in basic training, it was more towards the people who have to wait for him. He changed me into a sadder person, because I cry over him more than I have ever cried over someone. I didn’t see the happier things, because he was the one happy thing that was always there, but he wasn’t there anymore. I walk into my house, and everything reminds me of him, but I try to hide my sadness, and I think I’m doing a good job.
We went to a barbecue to honor the privates, and we ate and laughed and everyone talked about how their lives were different since July eighteenth. He was definitely more mature and different, but every so often, I would see a speck of the boy that I loved so much. We had to stay on the base, so there wasn’t many things to do, so we mini-golfed, and laughter followed us throughout the day. He seemed to want to be there, which was different for the old him. He seemed so happy to be with us, which brought a smile to my face. We hung out around the base all day, doing small things that would fill a little bit of time, and told stories, and that was definitely a day that I will remember with a smile on my face, and that day I totally forgot about him not wanting me to be there, but all good days have to come to an end, and we dropped him off and everyone’s mind was just on the next day’s activities.
Today, we got up bright and early, and got ready for the day everyone has been waiting for since he left, his basic training graduation. We drove back onto the base, and sat in the bleachers, waiting for them to walk out. The band played, and the crowd saw the soldiers marching out, and everyone got super excited. They had boring speeches, and finally they said the graduation was over. Seeing him wasn’t as big as yesterday, but He looked so good in his Class B’s. We went into downtown Columbia, and we ate at this really nice brunch place, and our laughter echoed throughout the whole building, and I wouldn’t have had it any other way. We went back to the hotel, and we slept. All of us. He was sick, and he slept so soundly.
At dinner, he laughed as if he didn’t have a care in the world, as if he didn’t know that in four days he was going to have to be alone in the world without his family and having to make new friends. Going to basic training was hard for him, so I can only imagine what it will be like for him to be all on his own.
After dinner, we dropped him off at the barracks, and we said our final goodbyes until Christmas. He hugged my dad quickly, gave my mom a big hug to compensate for the day before, and hugged my grandma quickly. But still, no hug for me. That broke my heart more than anything else. He could have at least acted like he cared, but he didn’t. When we walked away from him, I bursted into tears, and my dad put his arm around me and said, “Baby girl, he loves you, he just doesn’t know how to show it. It’s hard for him to see us in pain, and he knew that if he hugged you, it would put you in more pain”, and he was right. My dad was always right about these types of things. He has been through this before, so he knows how it feels, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less.
He is the root of my sadness, but he also brings me so much joy. Seeing his smiling face just makes my day, and hearing the excitement in his voice when he talks to my parents is good enough for me. I just wish I was still part of that happiness.

Sincerely,
A heartbroken girl