At the beginning of June a 22 year old kid from the next county over was killed in Afghanistan, along with two other soldiers. My podunk county actually has a regional airport, because this used to be where the corporate headquarters of a Fortune 50 company was located, so they flew his body here last Wednesday to bring him home. If you've never visited a small town - maybe just a small Southern town - funeral processions are a big deal. When one goes by you in the opposite lane, you pull to the side of the road until it passes. The hearse had a big escort - our cops, firefighters, and assorted Army guys lead it through town, and all along the route, people lined up on the side of the road to pay their respects. It was sad as hell.
Anyway, my, like, boyfriend or whatever (????????) texted me that afternoon to say hello and asked how I was, and in the spirit of 2017 being the year I'm fucking honest about my feelings, I told him that I was having a pretty bad anxiety day, and about the kid and the funeral procession. He asked if he could do anything to help, and I made a joke about him ending my work day early, because I really have to work at being vulnerable and my brain was trying to eat itself. About an hour later, he texted again and asked if he could come over and see me, even though we had plans to see each other the next day. And, in a surprise to myself, I actually wanted him to come over. So he did, and I sat on my couch in my pajamas and we watched a dumb comedy and he cuddled the shit out of me. Why is he so sweet, why is this going so well, and other questions: at nine.
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