July 15, 2004 was a hard day. I woke up and cried hard because everything was happening all at once - my Grandmother had been diagnosed with cancer in three different places six months ago, and July was the month they gave her until; and Steve was to fly to Vietnam for five weeks the next day.
I dragged myself out of bed and got ready for an 8-hour shift at Brodie's. I couldn't eat. I cried while I rode my bike there. It was pathetic, really. The day dragged on and on. There was nothing good or memorable about that work day, but I was glad it was over.
I rode my bike home feeling a little more calm. I jumped into the shower, ate dinner, and rode my bike to Scarlett's house where a trailer party was going on. Danielle was leaving for Malta in a few days as well. It kind of felt like a goodbye party to me. We ate junk food and had fun. There was strip poker, but that ended in disaster. Closer to the end, Steve and I sat at the other side of the trailer from everyone else. We said something like a goodbye, and practically everyone was a witness to my first kiss.
The party ended late and everyone's parents took them home. It was a little depressing, but it was still fun. I survived the day, and I'd made it through.
Steve came home and my grandma beat her odds. She's still beating them two years later, even if she isn't in as good as shape as she was back then. Steve is still home too. Sometimes he talks about going back to Vietnam. Everytime he does, I desperately want to go with him. I think we both know that it's not something I'd really enjoy, but... it would be hard to say that goodbye again. It sounds silly.
It's funny, I can remember some dates so vividly. On our way back to Fort Erie, Steve mentioned just after midnight that it was the 15. I paused for a moment and said that it was a very difficult day, and we both sat for a moment and thought about it.