Resentment and Understanding the Lack of Understanding

Resentment is evil. I'm convinced it's of the Devil. It grows quickly and holds strong, like a vine of Ivy. Once it takes hold it is very difficult to get rid of. I have a tactic to keep resentment at bay - I ignore what I'm afraid might make me resentful. I try not to think about the little things that, when combined, will turn into that awful vine. I'm too scared of what might become if I think about those little things. When they do manage to creep into my thoughts - which I rarely allow - I only let them linger for a moment before dismissing them away. Like an annoying cat that you can just put outside when it's not convenient to have around.

I think there's a lack of understanding that sparks and surrounds resentment. Resentment builds when you're holding something against someone (or something) else. Holding something against someone (or something) else stems from some kind of misunderstanding. A mis-guided act, spoken words, the lack of an act or words...

I will never know what it's like to be the one gone. The one away form home and the surroundings you're used to. I'll never know what it's like to completely follow someones schedule, no questions asked. I'll never know what it's like to wear heavy, uncomfortable gear day in and day out. To eat crappy food for months at a time. To never have a moment alone without someone else around. To sleep, eat, bath, work with the same people, 24 hours a day for months at a time. I'll never know what it's like to be afraid for my safety in that capacity. I'll never know what it's like to miss my friends and family and to hope there's still a place for me when I make it home. I'll never know what it's like to entrust all the responsibilities of home on my spouse. I'll never know what it's like to continuously cough up dirt, use a porta-potty, or sleep in a tent with at least 15 other coughing, snoring, men.

My husband will never understand what it's like to be the one left behind. The one left in charge of the day-to-day responsibilities of not just one, but two lives. He'll never understand what it's like to pay the bills, clean the house, manage three bank accounts, take care of our pets, take care of both cars and their maintenance, while going to school/work full-time. He'll never understand what it's like to answer all the questions he leaves for people when he posts ambiguous things online. He won't get the phone calls from his in-laws with questions about their child's safety. He won't have to dance around the truth to them. He won't have to do the taxes, or send out birthday cards, or deal with the DMV. He won't have to come home to a quiet, empty house day after day. He won't make excuses to go places or run errands just to be around people. He won't go to the movies alone. He won't go to bed and feel guilty for waking up on the wrong side. He won't spend hours in line at the post office, buy packing tape in bulk, or fill out customs forms like a pro. He won't sit by the phone and pray it rings. He won't pray that when the doorbell rings unexpectedly it's not two men in uniform to deliver horrible news. He won't see the look of pity on people's faces when they find out that he's gone for months. He won't have to hear people say that the time has gone by quickly and he'll be home "so soon".

I'll never know what it's like to be the one that leaves. He'll never know what it's like to be the one left behind. This is our unspoken understanding. Understanding that we'll never understand.