A little bit of a sob story for those of you who appreciate them. But with a semi-happy ending.
I’m a 36F, active duty military, currently on my first ever deployment. (My two eReaders were the first thing I packed to take with me!) I joined the military when I was 34, got married right after I joined to a man I had been in love with for many years, and felt quite fulfilled and content. All my dreams had come true.
I certainly can’t be the only one out there whose spouse completely changed once they were married. But sadly enough, he has shown his true colors while I’m 7,000 miles away from home and very much alone in my heartbreak. My support system has crumpled, my “happy thought” to keep me going completely vanished. Quite the opposite, I wake up to messages filled with crippling name calling and blame pointed toward me. The past 96 days have been nothing short of hell and I have no choice but to push through 58 more, all while trying to stay focused on my mission.
But this post isn’t about garnering sympathy. I want to shine a light on the comfort that books bring to someone who thinks they can’t go any further. When my working day is done and I’m sorely reminded that I don’t have anyone to turn to, I remember that there’s a book waiting for me. One in which I can escape to a different world, live a different life and feel love, understanding and compassion again.
Books are getting me through what’s proven to be the darkest time in my life. And I’m so very thankful that they exist and that there’s a community of people (you!) who could potentially understand where I’m coming from with every fiber of their being.
Here’s to you, literature! My constant companion that I can ALWAYS count on!
by Disastrous_Row_8744