The other day, MacGyver and I were talking. I had met (or re-met, as the case may be) a woman at swim practice that we went to college with. She had been dating one of the guys in MacGyver's ROTC battalion that we were friends with and they later wound up getting married. Small world that the Army is, he's stationed here and one of their kids is on the same swim team as my children. It was great to run into her, catch up, see that she hasn't really changed, hear that their time in the Army is coming to an end, and so on.
I told MacGyver that she would have been really cool to hang out with. And he looked at me like I had lost my mind. He asked me why I couldn't hang out with her and then it was my turn to look at HIM like HE had lost his mind.
I can't take on new friends right now. We are LEAVING. And in my mind, leaving = goodbyes = pain. I wonder if he was really paying attention when we left Hawaii. I was a basket case for week (ok, months...ok, a year) after we left Hawaii. Saying goodbye to people who had become family was brutal and even the idea of having to do that again on any level has me hyperventilating into a paper bag in the bathroom. So no, I can't take on any new friends right now. And I'm not alone in this - many of my milspouse friends will tell you the same thing - the goodbyes are brutal and they wear on you. When I was younger and we were getting ready to PCS, the excitement of a new town, a new duty station, the trip itself...all of those things outweighed the sadness of leaving the friends we had made. And there was always the possibility that, thanks to the small-world nature of the military, we'd win up stationed with them again. But I know that is unlikely now.
The ridiculous thing(s) is that I have no idea when we're leaving. Could be in 30 days. Could be in 12 months. Could be never. Our future is so murky right now that I have less of a clue now than I thought I did 6 months ago. And I'm sure that God is sitting up there thinking, "Heh. She thinks she's leaving this land-locked state. Watch this...I'll park her there another year or so while MacGyver works on his professional pilot's license. She'll lose her mind." When I explained my reasons to MacGyver, he just shook his head and told me I needed help.
I'm sure I do. He's just not qualified to offer the kind of help I need. I'm sure a professional shrink would have a field day with me.