|Me and Slapajawea when we first got to Iraq. |
Yes, I'm making a duck face. I didn't know any better at the time.
|Dramatic recreation of our friendship forming.|
While we were deployed, our friendship grew even stronger. (Duh. Combat zones have that effect.) But ours was a little different. Even in Iraq, people grew close with each other, and then kind of moved on to other besties. Slapajawea and I remained so close that I'm pretty sure our DNA meshed together, giving us both super powers. One of our lieutenants joked that we were the only couple that didn't break up during the deployment. We even took the giant leap of moving in together, both of us terrified that we would eventually try to kill each other with the rock we used to prop open our door to the scenic Iraqi views. (We named that rock Monty, by the way.) Didn't happen, though. Old Slappy remains the only person in my life other than my family members that I haven't outgrown. I don't know if it's because of the deployment that we've mated for life, or if we would have been such good friends regardless of how we met. I don't really care, though. And for those who would posit that we've only been friends for a few years, I say this. I've been friends with my Peppermint almost as long as I've been married to my husband. And I'm equally committed to both relationships. Even when shit gets crazy hard (and I know it's hard right now,) I'm going to be right beside her, calling her a hooker, and making her laugh. What I'm trying to say, Slapajawea, is that I dearly love you, and I would crumple up into a whimpering ball on the floor if you weren't here. So stay here. Please.