Everyone has disappointments in life. My method of coping with them is to try to make those cliches stick: Everything happens for a reason. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. In my mind, we are defined by our failures only in that it either sets you on a different path, or makes you so determined to make things happen that nothing can stand in your way. Some circumstances don’t give you that choice, though, it’s just that one way is no longer an option. And all those platitudes don’t make it suck any less.
Tomorrow we are making a trip to a place that dh and I would just as soon never see again. The setting for one of those failures, if you will. We have dear friends that have moved back there, true military friends of the rarest kind (the only reason I would ever go back to that hole in the ground). My dh would rather not go at all, but he thought maybe we should just get it over with. To make matters worse, they succeeded where we had failed. So while we love them, (and they try not to talk about it) it is torture for my dh to hear about a life that he once wanted. In my typical style, I hear about it and try to emphasize why that was not the right life for us. I would not trade if given the chance, whereas I think my dh would. It’s one of those hooah machismo things, I think.
I’m hoping the years will have healed some of that old wound for him. What I’m worried about is that it will be reopened. My tough soldier has a very tender heart, I’m afraid.