Thursday, January 24, 2008
So first off let me adress one thing. Although there is much tail out there that is asking to be chased, I am NOT chasing the ones that have a ring on their finger, and if I find out there a brown card, well thats when the E-brake gets pulled. It sucks to be deployed and know know if your wife is cheating on you or not. Now having said that one of my friends is in a strange relationship with a brown card. She's super needy and all that jazz. Her husband is back, and I've met him, for a moment, he's a 1st class dick. I'll hold my tounge because I'm not sure what will happen but the kids involved all look to my friend as more of a father figure than the husband.
I do not want to get into a debate about the moral ambiguity of this, truth is, it's not my place to say. I used to think it was all black and white but there's a LOT of gray. I suppose that if the situation were different somehow, like it was just a purly sexual thing and the husband wasn't such a dick to everyone and everything, I'd feel more of an obligation. I suppose it's the wrong useage but lately i keep rembering biblical quotes, and "Judge not lest ye be judged" goes here. It may make me uneasy, but I can't stop them.
Now that that's cleared up. My bi-sexual ex is in a heap of trouble. She and her GF are officially over. This would be alright for her if she were the dumper. But she is not. It was going to happen, she admits it, but the fact that she was the one dumped and that after it was done her gf now ex was saying all the "right" things and keeping hope alive. A Fate more cruel that a clean break, cheating, or worst of all the "mega dump" (which leaves the signifigant other with everything to include house dog and dignity). Whatever the case rare is it that "just friends" works. I kind of had a feeling, just from the way she talked, that she'd been having feelings for me, and i got confirmation. Ironically this is NOT what i want. I want her to be happy, but she won't find that with me. I've already screwed her over once I'm not going to do it again. Having said that it does give the vainest part of me a slight ego boost.
the world keeps changing. Sometimes things said weeks ago are the seed which grows into a tree of discontent. I find it amazing that in all this time, all this misery, it all seems to come back to me. I am the ultimate fly on the wall. My prowess of observation has led me to be able to see people in their ungaurded moments and perhaps that is why no one will get close to me. I know them before they know themselves.
In a strange twist my shrink says i need to cut off the drama, then he turns right around and suggests i thrive off the drama. Oh i wish I could believe that it is that simple. I won't deny that I am the all seeing crap of the universe I just don't know what to do with what I see. Do I love people BECAUSE they have weakness, do i try to mend the hurt taround me, or do i simply cut myself off from those in need. I waver between two opposing view points. That no one, no matter what they have done (short of outright evil) deserves to be left alone and ignored, and the feeling that if they are that screwed up and they are on the death roll you can't help them more than lip service and you baisically have to let them recover.
The shrink suggested isolatingf myself from the sourses of my Pain. Nicole, because the wound she didn't know she inflicted festers. Andrea, because let's face it she'd gone over to the dark side and if she's into girls thats a tree i want not to bark up. Lisa, because of the sorted past i've only just started getting over, and the fact that no matter what i do i really can't save a person from themselves. And Gary, because his love of a brown card, and the drama implied in that makes life interesting at best. I don't know if i have the strength to cut anyone off. But i was encouraged to try. so here goes.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
I’d like to say my mood has improved, the car certainly has a hell of a kick to it. I’d like to say that I was happy with the (false) labor of Tracy’s niece. I’d even like to say that getting ready to leave my crappy room forever would make me ecstatic. Sadly none of this is true. My buoyant mood on Saturday morning was ruined by a lot of things in the afternoon/evening.
First was (of course) Lisa. She refuses to admit her life has changed. Still wants to be the life of the party, and doesn’t realize she needs to find a new class of people to hang out with. So I take it that she bought a shit load of stakes and beer for a party out in the middle of nowhere. Morning sickness doesn’t really wait for morning, so of course she couldn’t hold anything down. I understand why she does this. She’s lonely. In a way we’re a lot a like. Unlike me she tries to form many relationships which she is the center or at least be a part of the nuclei of a group, whereas I tend to from a few deep personal relationships. I may have many people that I am on friendly terms with but only a few friends. There’s a type of selflessness that we both share, that sadly is often misused by others. But the major difference between the two of us is what I like to call “the Moment”
“The Moment” doesn’t always happen in a person’s life, some know instinctively that it is coming and avoid it like the Plague. Others are too shallow to know it has happened, or are not perceptive enough to appreciate the magnitude of what has occurred. Essentially the moment when you are forced to face exactly who and what you are. I have had that experience, and sadly I am unable to escape who and what I am. As they say knowing is half the battle. Lisa hasn’t had that just yet, so For the time being I must sit back and wait.
Lets face it. I am not Superman, and even if I were, I don’t think I could save her from herself. Its like watching a train wreck in slow motion. I want to race in and help, but I have neither the means or the right. Besides I don’t think she’d ever ask for help. I actually think I pissed her off. I got a little preachy. But I’m not the type of guy to blow sunshine up a person’s ass all day long. I’ll tell a man, woman, or child what the score is, and they can do whatever they want with that info.
So text messages from her really soured my mood, and made me really not bale to get my drink on. Strangely enough I ended up being sober person in the “group” that I’m in. That is beyond strange for me. I’m usually the one that is plastered and Gary is the one that is picking me up. Great stuff. I was distracted all night then at about midnight, right after the bar dance, we got news that Tracy’s niece had gone into labor. Oh goody. That brought back a whole host of other emotions. Essentially that I’m the fifth wheel, in every situation.
So then I went to my room and crashed out. I’d like to say Sunday was good and that in the process of recovering I felt good about myself, but again no can do. Truth is even though Anja is jealous (haha it’s actually kinda funny Tasha wanted to steal my car even though she doesn’t know how to drive stick) and even though there is a lot I should be happy about, seeing proof that I have screwed up and dropped the ball on yet another relationship is just oh so great. Nicole is wearing the ring and I’ve disconnected with her by my own doing. I’ve screwed the pooch YET AGAIN! I’m actually getting really sick of screwing up so much.
I’ve started having nightmares about my great ball dropping. Things that I had once wanted slipping away. The “Rage Storm” A visual nightmare from my own imagination which consumes and destroys everything before finally destroying myself. Old friends turning their backs on me, and a woman I’ve loved for so long simply fading from my life because of what I have become and what I have done. I’m so tired of my nightmares.
I didn’t fight for Nicole when I had the chance, and I didn’t tell her when it would have made a difference. So who do I have to blame? No one but myself. Se what I mean about accepting who and what I am. I am not the great lover, I’m not even a really good one. If I had to compare myself to anyone in pop culture I’d probably be like Superman. Put the suit (uniform) on and I can do anything, face any danger, and save lives. Take the suit off and I’m a bumbling fool that no one really notices or pays heed to.
I’d like to believe that there Is a light at the end of the tunnel. I’d like to think that there is hope. But as time goes on, there is simply bounding from one disaster to the next. Often I never realize just how much I’ve screwed up until days, weeks or even months later. I keep looking over my shoulder. Why can’t I connect with anyone or anything anymore? Nicole says read the Bible, but even that isn’t really doing that much for me either. I keep going through the motions, but if I open myself up even for an instant, then I pay a high price for it. So I don’t feel.
Love is a funny thing. When you have it, it can motivate you to heights you never thought possible, or, in my case keep you going when everything seems pointless. In the end, if I have to use spite to keep myself going, who’s to judge me? I Am what I Am. Obviously.
Saturday, January 19, 2008
Freedom. Power. Two concepts that kind of go hand in hand. For me right now the symbol of freedom is a car. The means to do what I will and go where I please. I loved my little Mazda three, but not just because it was responsive and fast (even if it was small) I loved it because it was freedom. For a few minuets an hour a day I could go wherever I wished. All I had to do was imagine and go.
But sadly there has not been a chance for me to leave Riley. I couldn’t go anywhere. I was at the mercy of others, and truth be told I hated it. I hated it in ways I can’t even begin to describe. How many nights did I stay in the barracks and watch the same movies over and over again? How many hours did I pace? How many times did I stop and think about the lost love? I hardened my heart to the world, and eventually came to hate everyone and everything
I do not lay blame. Although I tried. I realized I had lost Lisa, because I held back. Truth is even looking back, I don’t think I’ve done so much for so little. What I mean by that is most people would call me crazy to hope for a future after ten days spent together, but I did. I cursed everything when that hope fell through, but it is not really fair to her. To be honest, I’m so much of a mess when it comes to relationships that I didn’t have a chance. But I’ll never suffer an ill word against her in my presence.
Since Christmas, I started a downward spiral. I don’t know when I started it, but when it became clear how far I had fallen I realized I needed something to recover what was left of my sanity, and maybe even my soul. The Mission is over. At least for me. At least for now. I can not hope for the love of a woman, or alt least the woman I wanted. And then Gary told me about how he got his car.
Now I will warn every military man and woman out there DO NOT USE THE MILES program! It’s great on the surface but it’s for high risk situations. Better to buy a lemon lot car, and then trade it in to the dealer to get at least some headway. But I’m getting sidetracked. Nikki (different one) who is a waitress at Coyotes, sold Gary his car, and he referred me to her. Lets face it, I need a set of wheels like old men need supplemental O2.
Low and behold there is this one car that catches my eye but dam it, it’s a manual. So she says well try test driving this other one. Now for those that are used to the little Japanese cars when you strap into a car and turn on a V8, and God help me I fell in love. That Rumble and roar made me just happy as hell.
So now I have to means to go where I will. Even though it is shallow as hell, I love the roar, and the absolute shallow nature of it all. It’s a chick magnet. So what? I love it all the same. I’m sure that had I not been desperate or in such a bad way I’d most likely felt a little worried about the small details, like price or gas mileage. But the sad truth is I needed this boost. I suppose the big question is: Is it too little to late?
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
Change is good. Well at least change is change. It seems like all around the world is changing. In the world of politics there is soon going to be a change of leadership that could radically alter the way the country does business (not always a good thing) and the ones that once seemed not to have a chance now at least have an honest shot. Still the mud slinging and political grand standing is such that I simply can not stomach the bile that is being spewed out.
The Army is changing too. I’d like to say for the better but judging from the new privates coming into the army. Not so much. Still it is nice that units like the WTU (Warrior Transition Unit) have formed up to take care of soldiers that are sick or have serous problems. But let’s face it, it seems a little late for it all. And moving to this unit was different at first but it looks like I’m right back into the whole formations twice a day, accounting for me every five seconds. The very thing that has me burnt out from the army. Let’s face it since I’ve gotten back I’ve had to be accounted for almost every second of every day.
In the personal scene. . . Nicole is happy with her boyfriend yay. (It’s too bad typed blogs can’t really convey sarcasm like my voice can.) Lisa is pregnant (and if you want to talk about opening a can of worms ask me how I feel about THAT one) My soldier’s angel Marrisa is happy (despite her latina insecurities) with her new bf. Good thing she never tells him some of the things she tells me (“I want to have his babies” would make most guys flinch just a bit after three months) Patrick (my brother) is doing some kind of comic book (that one took me completely by surprise) Dad is remodeling the house, and mom is doing her church thing. . Gary and Tracy are screwing like rabbits but despite the neurotic habits they BOTH have, they are happy with each other, and Gary is stepping up well with his role as de facto father, even though the girls are not only a handful but a whole house full so to speak.
What bothers me the most about all this is simply put. . . Everyone is having a life, continuing their lives or is in some way shape or form moving on. I feel like I am standing still, watching people go on about their lives as if it were some bizarre drama. I mean if I didn’t know any better I’d say I was a spectator in my own live. It feels almost voyeuristic when I’ve had sex lately. Like it’s someone else and my mind is just along for the ride. I’m not even really enjoying it too much and yet I still do it.
Today I actually had two different women say “I love you” and even though there were days I’d have killed to hear a woman, any woman really, say that I felt nothing. I didn’t care. I know one of these women is the type that I wanted to end up with, any yet when she talks to me I don’t feel the love that just a few weeks ago I felt so strongly. I know that there should be something, but simply put I don’t really feel anything anymore.
The fact that I’d managed to sleep with a brown card (military dependant) and felt nothing is troubling. Especially because it was one of the things I vehemently swore I’d never do. And yet once it was over I felt no shame. No connection, nothing. If any of my friends were to read this I suppose they’d be troubled.
Truth is that I really have nothing good to report. I called Jessica, the one person who is having the same problem with stagnation that I am. Even though her political views could be said to be far left, and often we disagree on a lot of things, we’ve always had a connection, and understood each other. I loved her once, though I’d never tell her. Anyway to make a long story short I told her about my life, and it sounded like she was almost on the edge of tears. I suppose it was simply how I said it. Truth is even if she’s in Oregon, and is definitely in the opposite extreme as far as political view point goes, that moment of connection was enough to keep me sane for right now.
I used to say “it could be worse” but every time I did, I usually hit what I thought was rock bottom. But each time I’ve hit rock bottom, I manage to sink deeper. Now that WTU has become a purgatory much the same as Rear D was, well the status quo continues, and I hate it. I’ve past the point where it feels like a downward spiral, now it feels more like strait down, and the fact that even making a connection for a moment is something I’m not even desperate for, should worry me.
I should be doing so many things, I should feel SOMETHING. But I don’t. I have nothing really to report, no forward movement, no upward movement, not ray of hope, and the sad truth is I don’t. Here I stand, a spectator, watching life go on by me. People moving so fast they could almost be a blur, and as I look around people are having lives and are if not happy at least able to move forward and change. I can only hope that the day will come that I have something worth while to say about MY life and not the lives of others.
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
“I love you” she said to him. It was so simple and yet it meant everything to him. The air was still heavy from the musk of sex. Both of them were still drenched in sweat. He looked at her. Her naked form was so beautiful, and to have one so beautiful so loving, turn her attention to him was something that still made his jaw drop.
He sat on the edge of the bed. Just staring at her. Even though what had just happened might best be sent to penthouse forum, the way she lay there so relaxed and content, it was like something right out of the Louvre. Some might have called her plain but to him, angels did not look nearly as radiant or beautiful. She sat up and came to sit next to him. Her blond hair falling freely.
“what’s wrong?” she asked
He managed a shrug “nothing, it’s just. . . This. Its always what I wanted.”
She smiled and he leaned over and kissed her. Her lips still seemed so soft. Even though they should be chapped. With out a hint of makeup she somehow seemed more beautiful than the models he’d always seen in magazines.
“I don’t want to lose you.” he said to her in a quiet voice
“you won’t. you’ll never lose me.” somehow she’d managed to say just the things he’d wanted to hear. He kissed her again.
“I don’t know if I’ll make it back this time.” he said even quieter. Almost a whisper.
“you will. You have to come back to me.”
He closed his eyes.
He opened his eyes, and the sound came back to him. It was like popcorn from hell. Each one a potentially lethal round cooking off. The Bradley sat burning just thirty meters away and still he could feel the heat. There was a screaming The man below him, a friend was missing the better portion of his right leg. Blood was streaming down his face from a gash above his right eye, and his left arm was charred the unmistakable, and nauseating smell of burnt flesh and hair wafting up to his nostrils.
He tried to drag the man to the house that had been cleared, but it wasn’t easy. He was heavy and mostly dead weight. Inside the courtyard, more men were screaming. One was holding the nearly headless body of a friend rocking back and forth begging pleading praying that through some miracle his friend would live.
Another had his hands on his stomach and scream. His intestines were hanging out and they looked like pink sausage links. In the corner a boy on his side moaned, ragged holes in his side. All around the sick crimson of blood was filling the courtyard. Already some of it had started to coagulate into globs.
Outside someone screamed and the unmistakable sound of an RPG headed towards here he now stood.
“You have to come back to me.”
He closes his eyes.
He opens them
“dearly beloved we are gathered here today, in sight of God, to witness the joining of these two people in the bonds of holy matrimony. . .”
The priest in his flowing cream robes looked absolutely shabby compared to her. She was so radiant that the entire place seemed to light up just from her presence. Her blond hair pulled back into a bun, and her face partially hidden by a veil, it was nonetheless clear that she was smiling, and happy. He thought back to that day so long ago. He could almost see here like some vision of Eve, in naked wonder.
He couldn’t help but smile. He had never really pictured her here, but it was clear that in this moment she had never been happier. On both sides people watched. Some were stoic in their silence, many women dabbed their handkerchiefs with tears, and many of the older men sat there with a knowing smile. It was in short the moment he had always imagined.
“You have to come back to me”
He closes his eyes
He opens his eyes.
In front of him is a scene from hell. There is fire everywhere. One of the oil tankers had been destroyed. Everywhere cars burned. Women and children went running in complete panic. The crowds surging and people are thrown without regard into the open sewage trenches.
Little figures come running out of the shop. Figures that could only be children. Their bodies consumed in flames. They don’t get far. They fall and roast on the spot. Dead. People with their clothes on fire don’t even seem to notice such is their panic, and need to flee.
A woman her shroud almost engulfed on the backside runs into a crowd. And sets a man on fire. The screams over take him, and for a second he is not sure what to do. Can he even try to help these people. He turns to his team leader, who sadly shakes his head.
“secure that corner” he points to a corner and then points towards the chaos. It’s clear what he means. Keep anyone from getting too close. Even if they need help. A hard lesson learned, and now these people are going to pay the price. They can’t be helped. To help them will put these soldiers at risk of being slaughtered themselves. It’s not right his heart screams. But his mind knows that he has to protect himself first.
He goes to the corner and kneels. Transfixed by what he sees. The panic lessens. The people that can flee have. Now all that is left is the moans and screams of the dead and dying. Fire is still everywhere. An old hajji in a man dress starts running towards him, jabbering in Arabic
“KIFF!” he screams. He raises his weapon. “KIFF!” the hajji still comes running, his beard singed. He raises his fist and screams, and starts to speed up. Without a second though he takes aim. He aims high intentionally and fires two rounds, but the old hajji keeps coming
Please don’t. he lowers his aim. Center mass.
“you have to come back to me.”
He pulls the trigger, and closes his eyes.
He opens his eyes.
“If any person can show good cause why these two should not be married, let him speak now or forever hold his peace.” the priests says.
He is snapped back to the now. The man across from her is not him. And he stares at her from one of the last pews. From his seat on the isle he had followed her with his eyes, but he wasn’t sure she had seen him. For a long moment the church was quiet. The priest took in a deep breath ready to speak again.
He stood up. His medals tinkling. His uniform immaculate. For a moment no one but those around noticed that he had stood up. But when the priest stopped what he was about to say and looked him in they eye waiting for him to speak, the audience started to take note. The silence was broken by the sound of rustling and even murmurs. One by one all eyes in the church turned to him. Even the groom. And when the groom’s jaw flexed it was clear that he had an audience. But he waited. Finally she turned.
For one long moment their eyes met and they were not in a church but in a little hole in the wall hotel room, naked and in love. He saw her draw in a breath and wait. He drew breath to speak. But words would not come. He hung his head, and his shoulders hunched in defeat. He stepped out into the isle and walked away from the scene. He walked all the way to the exit not daring to turn back.
He heard his name echo throughout the hall, and he stopped. His spine went ramrod strait, and he waited. He turned his head just the barest fraction and waited for more. But when nothing came, he faced the doors in front of him and walked out into the sunlight.
He closed his eyes
“You have to come back to me.”
“I did.” he whispers to no one in particular.
Friday, January 4, 2008
So the good news, well after some extreme drinking, i've decided to cut WAY back. Let's just say that standing became an issue only half way through the night. HOWEVER i think it would be funny as hell if anyone had video of me doing the cupid shuffle. When they kick left i kick right, when they slide to the left i slide to the right. It's the only way a white man can dance. . . drunk off his ass haha
It was kind of strange. Ever since i got stuck on stupid and started blaring things out (there seems to be no filter from my mind to my mouth) i can see that there is a sad affect on the relationships around me. I am starting to draw in people that are unstable and need a hero, and pushing away the people i should be embrasing. Nicole being one of them. Sadly we have spoken only a few words and those are strained at best. I don't think she knows what to do or say. If i were in her possition i wouldn't either. To be fair, i did text her a lot when i was either a) drunk off my ass b) depressed or c) both. Even though she says i'm not i can almost feel her slipping away. Unsure of how to deal with me. I can be a very passionate person and when i focus my attention on someone, i can go a bit. . . overboard.
I've been hanging out with new people. To be honest although Anja welcomed me into her home often, and we hung out I felt incredibly guilty about it. Jeff is still in Iraq, and i can't do a thing about that, and being invited in on the home life of my friends's families. I suppose part of it has to do with the fact that I am single. Sitting at Jubi's BBQ with JIm's wife and kids, Anja and kids, and of course Jubi and his biker crew (and kids) i feel like a fith wheel. Is it odd that i should feel like an outsider in a group that is being nothing but gracious as hosts and guests?
Of course I've also come to the conclusion that the best I'll ever manage is a semi steady girlfriend. I have yet to experience a relationship where my girlfriend even TALKS of moving in let alone actually doing it. So there you have it. I doubt I'll EVER have a family of my own, and if i do? Will the shadows of war haunt my family like it haunts me?