There's a pun in there somewhere.

I don't even have the words here to start this blog and I even am debating whether to say anything. I'm so tired and emotionally drained tonight and have tried all day to put my thoughts together in an eloquent manner. It's not happening. So the next few paragraphs are going to be akin to verbal diarrea, for lack of a better phrase.

Yesterday's attack in Mosul pierced my soul. I woke up to the news yesterday of the suicide bomber, and the news of the many wounded and dead and felt a chill in my spine. I dreamt it two months ago. Image for image. I have done this a few times in my life, and it always makes me feel odd. But this time, I had told Todd of the dream when I had it as it had bothered me so. I had wrote it down in my journal. My dream was a little different in that it was an "invisible" enemy that had come in the barracks and blew up in the tent. The rest is pretty much what I'm reading happened.

I know what the perception is. It sounds looney. It conjures up visions of a little crooked woman sitting behind a crystal ball, beckoning the gullible for money. But it's just one of those things sometimes. Unexplainable. Part of 98% of the unused grey matter.

Watching the news unfold yesterday, I felt sick. Sick for those that were there and had to experience it first hand. Those that were left behind, the friends, the family, the children. And to have to wait to hear for good or bad, at this time of year is just so terribly sad. Many of those involved were from Fort Lewis, apparently. That's the base closest to here - down by Seattle, and I believe also the base they filmed An Officer and A Gentleman. As corny as it sounds, that is still one of my most favorite movies of all times.

Todd called last night. We talked for a long while and it was probably the first time I have ever heard him break that bravado and actually seemed shaken. He remembered that I'd told him of my dream, and I think that made him a little freaked out. (Yeah, you and me both dude!)

His training is going well and he should be in the sandbox towards beginning of February. He got the unit he was hoping for and is finding some real comraderie within his group. Friends, he says that will not only have his back, but be there for him for the rest of his life. The fabled Band Of Brothers.

But suddenly it all seemed so real last night. He's really going there. It hit me, but it hit him harder. I so wished I could hug him. To tell him it will be ok. But will it? That little voice inside my head is not so sure. Even just typing that makes me cringe.

I have a lot to learn about this role that I'm taking. It's not for the faint hearted and I know that I don't even scratch the surface to those that have their husbands and wives serving. Our relationship is still too new to ever compare it to those that have made a lifetime commitment. What transpires over the next few months will change both of us, either for good or bad. We will either come out stronger for it, or it will become obvious it was not meant to be. I don't have that answer. Already, in the short 5 months since we met, we have met crises and roadblocks that would have fizzled many other relationships, but that hasn't happened. So we go on. He takes his leave to the other side of the world, and I wait.

For what I am to learn here, it is not clear, but it is the path that I must follow for now.

UPDATE: I found a really moving account on another blog tonight about someone who was actually at Mosul during the attack.