2 weeks.

It has been two weeks as of tomorrow since he's left. I've left the house 3 times in 14 days. To say I'm depressed is an understatement. I'm getting good at faking it though.
"Fake it til you make it." Perhaps at some point or another that will start working for me. Perhaps not.
I haven't done much in those 2 weeks, clean the house, play with the kids, write letters, check the mailbox, my cellphone is permanently implanted in my pocket, so much for all those projects I had lined up.. I just don't have the will or the energy. Basically, I have only the energy to do what is absolutely necessary. Anything else, above & beyond that, is out of the question.
I don't even want to talk to friends or anyone really, save a few people. I'm sick of lying and saying I'm okay. I'm not. I don't want to sit and whine to everyone and gripe. That shit gets old after awhile, plus it makes me appear weak and pitiful and I'd rather not come off that way if possible.
But I also don't want the pity or the ever insensitive "it will go by so fast, or it will get better.
Blah. That's crap. It's only going to get better when my husband is home.

I've talked to him twice in 2 weeks. I guess I should consider myself lucky. I'd be perfectly content to stay in my house for the next 8 months and not see anyone. I'm tired of acting freaking happy when all I want to do is lay down and cry. Or scream. It varies between the two.
My heart just hurts. Plain and simple. I'm exhausted from all of it, physically exhausted, mentall and emotionally exhausted. Then I have people telling me to watch out for when he goes to AIT, because everyone sleeps around during AIT.
Thanks asshole. I really needed to hear that bullshit. Apparently you don't know MY husband. Stupid fucker. Ugh!
I just want to fast forward until November so this will all be over with. I hate it already, and we're only two weeks in. Lovely.