Waiting on a deployed soldier isn't glamorous.  Civilian life continues, undaunted, in his absence, and it's doubly messy with only one person putting out fires.  Guess what?  The cat peed on the carpet, and I didn't check my mirrors when backing out and subsequently hit a mailbox.  Cooking for one is underwhelming (and expensive!), so dinner for the last two nights has been chicken nuggets and an apple.  My toenails aren't painted, because there's no one home to see my bare feet.  My hair is in a ponytail, because there's no one to style it for.  Yes, I have worn a Snuggie to bed more than once this week.

It isn't romantic.  My adorable nighties are still in the drawer where I put them away six months ago.  There are cards and emails that can be touching, to be sure, but more often than not, they make me cry instead of swoon.  I can see and hear him through the computer screen (god bless Skype), but the shoddy internet connection ("What, baby?  I can't hear you.  What?") means it's difficult to discuss anything serious or compelling.  And while the distance certainly can and does augment desire and affection, it's not easy to further a deep personal connection when you're missing every other word and the video is on a two second delay.  There are no dates for Valentine's Day or the million weddings this spring.  

It's not something to be tackled alone, with only my sacrifice to keep me warm at night.  I've called in all the favors I've ever been owed in order to make it through this year, leaning heavily on my best friend and my mother.  I've made friends with co-workers and even re-connected with my estranged father. 

It's not particularly patriotic.  It's not character-building- in fact, it's actually pretty grinding. There's no swelling soundtrack, no guaranteed happy ending- just a lot of uncertainty.

It could be worse, and I'd rather wait for him than be together with anyone else. But it's no Nicholas Sparks novel.