Rebel Rose

It feels so fraudulent living this life.
At work, as much as I can manage, I have to play the tough girl. I have to be the hard-ass, the tough one, the chick who never gives up. God help me, I try. My unit got released at noon today, but I had volunteered to do medical coverage for the afternoon event that the senior leadership wanted to put on: a safety ride for those who rode motorcycles in the battalion.
I worked until 1800- 6pm. Fortunately, I was among good people, but, after a morning of text messages from Dad's roommate debating whether the arrangement we had already made on me moving in was a good idea after all (after I had found a bedroom set for the room, no less) and me falling apart over yet another plan to help me gone awry, well, I spent a good chunk of the time between the morning and afternoon parts of my day in tears, and trying my hardest to keep the rage inside and not letting it loose on the people who, while I'm not sure they hadn't earned it, wouldn't understand where it was coming from. Oh, yeah, and today was the first day I forgot to take my anti-depressants before I left for work.
It was a hard morning.
The afternoon was long and tedious- it's been quite some time since I worked that late- though I found the silver lining in the two male Soldiers I was riding in the truck behind the motorcycles with. I think I may have found two friends in them, although, as they're both male, I must remember to avoid latching on to them on a too-personal level.
Here comes the complicated part.
I have friends I can talk to- almost all of them, admittedly, male.
Mr Nice Guy got out of class at 2000 (8pm), which is actually about normal for the class he'll be in for a few weeks, but, instead of wanting to see me and tell me about his first day (we've seen each other daily every chance we've had, and I've been through the course and did what I could to help him prepare) he decided he would have dinner with some guys from his class- who he's been around all day. Oh, and he'll be in class until 2200 (10pm) tomorrow, so he won't have time to see me then, either.
Yes, my feelings are hurt.
No, I don't think he understands that.
Honestly, I don't want him to. I want to be able to handle this hurt on my own, and not expect him to always be there to patch up the day's boo-boos. I have gotten dependent on him, and that bothers me. It bothers me even more knowing he has decided he wants to stay in the Army, and knowing that, if this works, I will be, literally, in the Army's eyes, a dependent. I will be the second-class citizen waiting at home, while he's in whatever part of the world he gets sent to, out of contact for extended and unpredictable amounts of time. And I love him enough that, for him, and knowing what I do now, I would do it, without question.
So I need to learn this now, I need to learn to depend on me, because nobody else will be there all the time to patch up my boo-boos, and it's better to learn this now, rather than when I won't hear from him for maybe months on end...
I don't want to learn this.
But, even more, I don't want to lose him.

And, so, I must learn to pull that tough-girl out even when I'm alone.
I must learn that the soft side of me, the tears, the vulnerability, the painfully complete honesty, have no place out of my control. They are for him and only him to see- not for when it's just me, or I may go seeking comfort, and that could end badly. Not ever, unless he's by my side.
This is not going to be easy.