Don't.

I'm not one to sit proudly with my "12B Wife" t-shirt on, humming Taps and TiVoing Army Wives before volunteering to head up the FRG; however, don't you fucking sit there and tell me that you "know exactly what I'm going through." Let me elaborate. I get that I'm not the first - nor will I be the last - person whose spouse deploys. There are children, for God's sake, who have experienced the deployment of their parents and they manage just fine. But don't for one second undermine the fact that this NEW to me. I've never dealt with it before and it isn't something you can quite easily relate to. Please don't tell me for a one more solitary time that, "oh, I get it believe me." Uh, no. No you in fact do NOT get it. The most dangerous thing your ex husband did was sell drugs at a store he owned using a loan with your house as collateral. The farthest away he ever "traveled" was to another woman's bed. The most potential he had for being killed while working was a fucking mattress falling on his head and I highly doubt that at times you would have found it to be an inconvenience at most.

Don't you fucking dare. You really have no idea. I'm not thirty but I'm not thirteen.

I'm truly done.