Returning from War #2

This is a companion to my second post on deploying:

So my time in Afghanistan drew to an end.  While it was a good trip, it was definitely exciting to come home, and there would be a girl waiting for me this time.  It was the same long ordeal to fly home, although this time got to see my sister as I connected through the Baltimore airport, which was cool.  When I finally got back to my home city there was a crowd of friends and people from work to greet me at the airport, which was an awesome change.  And there was my girl!  She was there, and I made a bee line right for her and kissed her.  Everything was perfect.

Well, not quite.  My friends (who didn’t know my history, I’d been happy to talk about it at work but was too ashamed to tell my friends), had bought me a bottle of scotch as a welcome home gift, my favorite!  So my girl drove me home, we started drinking and I promptly blacked out.  When I woke up, she was gone, and it was never the same.

Other little things sucked as they always do when you try to unpack your life after being gone for six and a half months.  I remember picking up my car and shattering my car window as we hit something trying to push it out of the autoshop back lot on base.  It was just embrace the suck time.  Whatever, I shrugged.  I got a jump, drove home with no window only to have the car die on me again.  Had to get another jump.

We get time off to reacclimatize, two weeks.  I really didn’t know what to do with myself, so spent most of it drunk.  Occasionally I’d awkwardly reach out to the girl, but that never seemed to go anywhere, somewhere something had died.

I was just home, and didn’t have anything to look forward to.  Just alone with my thoughts.  Drinking took care of that.  Tattoos suddenly became interesting.




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