It's only 8:13 AM right now, and already I can't imagine any day in my past that's been harder than today. For those of you who aren't aware, my best friend, Joey Menna, went back to Afghanistan today. I had the honor and the privilege of being the last person he will see in the States who he knows. The last person to give him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. The last person to tell him that I love him, and that he better get his ass back here safely. There's no words to describe what an honor and a privilege it is to be in that position with someone you love and care for so much.

But, one thing I did learn today is it's a fuckload harder to do this in person than it is online or over the phone. When Joey left for his original deployment (he was back on R&R this time), I was totally cool. I wished him well, made him promise to come back safe, and told him I owed him a beer when he got here (which I have yet to provide..silly forgetful kitties). Anyway, I was torn up a little, sure, but the emotions weren't too high, didn't stress me out, and I know that he's one of the best fucking soldiers there is. I know he's coming back safe and sound, no matter what. I have the knife he gave me to prove it.

Holy fuck was I slammed this morning after he got on that damned plane. It's a 45-minute drive from my house to the airport, and HOLY SHIT. I couldn't stop bawling. I cried the entire way home, then cried on the phone with him when he called me from his first stop. It was...just really freaking so painful that I couldn't put it into words. I was pretty strong though, for as emotional as I can get. I didn't cry when I was hugging him goodbye. Sure, I sniffled, but I didn't cry. But damn, the instant he was gone...fuck. I was a mess. A hot mess. I can still feel the damned stains on my cheeks from crying so fucking hard, and my chest hurts as a result.

Sometimes though, as I've often been told, you need a good cry. I fear for my friend, but not too badly. Like I said, he's a tough guy. One of the best trained soldiers in the world. He doesn't take shit from anyone (hence why he can tolerate my fucking ass, of course). He'll survive. He'll be home in nine months. And then me, Jinya and Cheeyote will be there with fucking bells on, waiting for our hugs and snuggles and nuzzles and all the things that make Joey what he is to us, and we to him, be it video games, music, whatever together. The welcome home party is going to be a weekender if there ever was one, and then some. It's going to be amazing.

But most of all, right now, despite all the pain, I find myself focusing on the positives. I remember the times over the past two weeks he's given me a hug, or when we sat around playing Left 4 Dead because that is one of his favorite things to do. I did everything in my power to make his last day here in the States the absolutely fucking best day it could be. And I did pretty damned well. He was somber when he left, but he was happy. He'd had a good time here, and I was a part of that. It's those sorts of things, those thoughts and memories, which are going to make the next nine months much easier for me to endure.

You know, there's a picture in my favorites from Fluke. One of the most emotional pictures I've ever seen on FA. I'm sure those of you who have poked through my favorites know it. It's not hard to find. But..I showed it to Joey. He just smiled at me, hugged me, and said "It will be okay." Those were his last words to me before he left, too. "It will be okay." I know it will be, my soldier. Because you are the strongest, bravest, most courageous guy I have ever met, and it is my privilege and honor to be your friend. And you will be home in nine months, and then we're going to have a weekend long fucking party with more Guiness and Jameson than you can shake a stick at.

Love you lots Joey. See you in a few months, my friend. Your tabby is waiting. :D *hugs tight*