Day 1 - January 26, 2009

Today is Dave’s first day at the base at New Jersey.

Today marks the start of activating what Dave calls as our ‘military mode’.

Sure I can miss him, but I can’t tell that to him. Sure I can be sad, but I can’t tell him that either. The same thing goes for him. Whatever we feel about being separated—we cannot discuss between each other. I can’t be crying. I can’t feel the misery. Whatever I am feeling right now, I have to keep it to myself.

That’s what our ‘military mode’ is supposed to be. Someone has already pressed the button and it has been activated. He has hopped on the bus and on his way to Jersey on an 8-hour ride.

“Sure I will miss you, but I can’t drown in my sadness and lose my focus. That’s how people get killed over there.” I still remember these words that he said, uttered with such firmness that sent shivers down my spine.

Last night was our last skype date. That’ll be the last time I see his face on the screen again. It was bittersweet. I could see sadness in his eyes and he was trying hard to give me his widest smile. We were both watching Comedy Central together, trying to mask the sadness with the laughs on tv that seems to be so temporary. I gave him my widest smile – enough for the tears to roll down the sides of the cheeks and not straight down. He was still there and I was missing him already.

No matter what he said about not being sad, I was sad as hell can be.

The 400-day countdown has not even started yet. it won’t till the 15th of February.

On that day, he will board on a plane to go to Iraq.

And on that same day, I will board a plane to Costa Rica.

I wish it’ll be 2010 when I wake up tomorrow.