Dishonorably Discharged: A Love Story, Page 2

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  I wish I could say it was a cinematic stormy night with light rain and moonlight to set the mood, but it wasn’t. There I sat in a semi-crowded bar across from my now almost-ex-husband, trying to decide how to start communicating with him again.

  A waitress broke the silence.

  “What will we be having?”

  I glanced at Justin. He averted my eye contact as if to say he wasn’t hungry. I ordered us two drinks. This was certainly not a dinner type of conversation. If anything, I wanted the option to throw my cash on the table and leave quickly if I had to.

  Here’s the thing. In life, there are rules and norms whether we believe that or not, whether they are ever spoken or not. In any relationship, there is one person that is the more dominant, more powerful person. There is the aggressor and the submissive, the leader and the follower. In this relationship, my husband had always been the leader. He was naturally strong, naturally outspoken and thoughtful. He could be trusted to lead us in the right direction when the time came for it. That was all before the incident. Ever since that night, the ball was in my court. I was suddenly the captain and he the lieutenant. This is a position I had never been before in any relationship but I was willing to try it. My marriage depended on it after all.

  Justin didn’t touch the alcohol I ordered. He sipped his water attentively as he studied my face. It was as if he wanted to say something but knew that a simple “I’m sorry” would never be good enough. I tried to understand. Whatever he was going through was more than I could imagine. He wasn’t the same person anymore. It was as if there were two people living in his skin now. There was the kind, warm, loving man I knew and the cold, aggressive, bloodthirsty killer who saw things overseas that I could never imagine. No known trigger or switch changed the personalities. He was never sure which would speak on a moment-to-moment basis.

  I broke conversation first. I could tell that’s what he wanted me to do but as I said, I wasn’t good at leading these types of things.

  “So… what have you been up to?” I asked.

  He grinned then spoke. “Just trying to live. Trying to make sense of this thing.”

  “What thing?” I replied.

  “Life. I threw it all away,” he said.

  Justin always had a way of saying things plainly yet embedding a double meaning. I prodded him more.

  “What do you mean by that?” I asked.

  “It’s all bad. My whole life has changed. I don’t know which way is up,” he continued. “I feel like I’ve died and I’m attending my own funeral over and over again.”

  Those were chilling words, especially since I knew he’d seen levels of death that most civilians only saw in movies. Marines had a special way of being desensitized to things like that.

  “Why do you say that?” I asked as I sipped my Corona. I wanted him to know that above all else, I still cared. In a sad way, we both were victims to his Mr. Hyde.

  “I lost it all. You know I got discharged right?” he asked.

  It hit me like a ton of bricks. His career was over and it all happened in a matter of weeks. I knew there was a chance it could happen but I never really thought about it. Now, it was right in my face. He really lost everything.

  I decided to drop the subject. The pain in his steel blue eyes was too much. I was starting to tear up as well. After all, we were still legally married. This affected us both.

  “So where are you staying these days?” I asked calmly. I didn’t want to stick on the subject of money.

  “With a buddy,” he answered.

  “You can’t stay with your parents in Minnesota?”

  “My mother already told me no,” he said. The pain was too much. He covered his face. A few seconds later, he started sniffling. “She said I was a piece of shit for what I did and I didn’t deserve to live. I’m not welcome in her home.” He paused between each word, struggling to get out audible sounds. The confession was too much. He had to excuse himself to get his emotions together. I wiped my face as he left.

  How could I let him live like this? I asked myself. Everything was simply too much to deal with. Yes, he hit you, but you’re alright. His life is ruined. I didn’t see it then but the seeds were already beginning to sow for me to forgive him.

  Justin returned a little more composed. He faked a smile.

  “So is everything cool with you?” he asked. I could tell he didn’t want to go back down that lane so I dropped talking about his life. He was below rock bottom and we both understood that.

  “Yeah. I’ve been working and taking my mind off things,” I said. He didn’t know it but I still stayed in the same apartment complex. I just moved to a different building on the backside of the property for security.

  “That’s good. That’s good,” he said. “You seeing anyone? Any new nice guys come to spice your life up?” He smirked. He always had a way of saying things like that. I knew what he really meant.

  “No. We are still married. I’m not that type of girl.”

  “Just checking, just checking. Don’t get defensive. I didn’t mean you were that type of girl.” He broke into a calmer tone. “About that, if you want to speak to a lawyer or whatever…” I cut him off. “Justin, I just need time to get my mind together. If I wanted a divorce, I’d get one. There are a lot of things I need to just think about, a lot of things that just need to take its time.”

  That answer pleased him. I just hoped and prayed he’d get the message. If things were going to work out, he’d have to put some serious overtime in. A couple of Facebook messages weren’t going to do trick. A small silence came upon the table. I decided it was best if we called it a night at an amicable moment.

  “Well it was good seeing you,” I said as I stood up. He stood up too. I could tell he didn’t know if he should try to hug me or not, but what the hell. We were still married. I gave him a quick embrace before I headed for the door. “Take care of yourself, Justin,” I said to him. “I will,” he replied.