When most people think of a military relationship they think of professional pictures and American flag T-shirts. They think of a wife at home alone with her baby, or girlfriend who is heartbroken because she must wander through life partially-alone. But most people have forgotten the other important roles that encompass military love — Family. These men and women are brothers, sisters, children, grandchildren and cousins to many. They hold keys to many hearts who miss them dearly and feel pain when they set out to become Soldiers, Marines, Airmen, Sailors and Coast Guardsmen.

Military love isn't cute. It's not made for Hallmark movies, it's not for the weak or shallow. It is greater than bows on your front door and flags lining your driveway. It isn't just about dog-tags and work boots. It takes one of the strongest kinds of love a person can possess because you don't always get to say "Bye for Now." You don't always get to send them off with hugs and ugly crying. I wouldn't do this job for just anyone. The military adds a whole new obstacle to ANY relationships, not just the ones who are involved romantically. Military love of any kind means dealing with a hard outer shell, picking apart an exterior that the military has taught them to build. This extra layering helps protect them from not only physical harm, but it also helps them to bare potential emotional trauma without being as effected as us civilians would be. It keeps them focused and ready for action.

The minimum time they have spent in basic training has taught them to be independent, to count on themselves. While we spend time missing them like hell, the military doesn't give them excessive time to miss us. I have endured two rounds of basic training, yet, I am not a military member, I just love the shit out of an Airman and a Soldier. I haven't stumbled upon much "Military Sisters" propaganda, any articles talking about what "strength" I have for being a military sibling, rather than a military lover. There are more T-Shirts for spouses and partners, car decals, support groups, and instant empathy. Let's not forget before there were lovers, girlfriends and boyfriends, there were mothers, sisters and brothers. I have watched my greatest protectors go out and blossom from booger-eating boys to strong-willed men.

I have done just as much work as everyone else; I have written letters and sent stamps for replies, I have worried about them being homesick and adjusting alright. I have kept them in the loop with all that's going on at home to add a sense of normalcy to their routine. I have kicked butts into gear to get to writing. I have said "I love you" more times on paper than I ever thought I would. I have cried tear-drops into lined notebooks because I just want to hear their laughs. I want to be annoyed by my them, like usual, instead of writing one more damn letter. I have been the farthest at some points from both my brothers that I have ever been and yet some days I have never felt closer.

Loving someone in the military is a lot of work. It means phone calls mid-day that are sometimes missed (sorry), and it means putting all you have into things at home to keep distracted from the passing days. It means going through holidays without them. It is a brutal reminder that this is not just a career, it is a lifestyle. They are no longer readily accessible. There are no text messages about your day or drama that goes on. They are bound by their commitment to something greater than themselves and there is such strength and power in that. They are admirable and it only adds to the fact they aren't home.

You aren't allowed to be sad when they are off doing bigger and better things to help the community. Sometimes we must love from a distance. Sometimes we must relish in their accomplishments that we are informed of through letters alone in our living rooms — sorry neighbors for the excited shrieks. Sometimes this love feels one-way even when it isn't. Time changes turn your days into their nights. Your today's turn into their yesterdays. You will wonder if you're doing enough for them because you know their days have been harder than yours. You have no idea what challenge they have been presented with, what choice they must make that day. Sometimes you will wonder why anyone would choose to do what they do, but like my dad would say, "It takes a certain kind of crazy."

I come from a long line of military family members. My dad, my grandfathers, my aunt, my siblings and even more extended family and friends. This means that I hear many "war stories," I listen to renditions about the "good ol' days", where my dad learned all about becoming disciplined and testing himself in ways he never thought he could, or better yet, would. It takes more than a few moments to get to this point, the point where you sit out on the porch and laugh about your experience with friends. It takes courage, capability, stamina and brains to get here. It takes a sense of adventure and a longing to serve. But they can't get here alone, and it takes much more than goodbye kisses. It takes all of us.