I think the root of the issue is this: The butterfly effect. I am completely overwhelmed by this thing. Not because I can't manage a move. Nor because I can't handle selling the house. And it isn't because I am scared of relocating. It is because every last one of these things is so inextricably intertwined that if one goes awry, I can't help but feel like everything, this whole life of ours, will go off the rails and resemble something like this. Only not in Legos.
I can't get past the ridiculous scenario I have lodged in my head, the one where if this house doesn't sell, our only options are to either double pay housing and dwindle our savings to nil or to sell it at a loss. Either way, in my mind it involves money that isn't mine (still getting used to that- there are guilt and all sorts of weird issues I have using his money for my stuff) going towards getting rid of an issue that is wholly mine. And using the money that isn't mine just depletes the stash that we so dearly will need post retirement so that we can do all of the things that we have always planned on. If that money isn't there, then we don't get to buy a house with a bit of land, we don't get to take vacations, we don't get to, you know, DO stuff. We have to be frugal and thrifty.
Not that there is anything wrong with renting or stay-cations (whatever those are) or being frugal in general. But you know, I worked hard for this money (So hard for it honey... do do doo do), so has he and Swiss has earned this retirement. We are in our 30's for sobbing out loud, we aren't kids anymore. We shouldn't have to rent. We shouldn't not be able to take vacations. We should be able to go out for dinners and not worry about the bill, we should be able to live a worry-free life financially speaking. And if I blow this house thing... if I can't sell it. I will feel like a failure. I will feel like I made this mess. I will feel like it is my fault he won't be able to do what he wanted to with his post-Army life.
Long story short? Unsold house = Tucker SUCKS.
To be fair, Swiss thinks I am insane for thinking like this. Mad Hatter insane. And he is probably right (as usual). He figures as long as there is $1.00 in the bank upon his return home, he'll be in better shape than he was the last time (file this one under sad, but true). And while, yes, technically that is correct, I cannot deal with the fact that I might fail at this. Because suddenly, my failures aren't just mine. They are ours. And he is 7,500 miles away and can't do a damned thing to bail me out on this one. Please, please, pleasepleaseplease let us sell this house. Please let me not fuck this up. Please?