For My Love

It's always good to start from the beginning, as that is the only way to understand why I am where I am today. Thanks should be given to God, who showed me Lexi, perhaps an hour before I left to never come back to Las Vegas. I can't say it was chance, nor anything less than what God intended. I love her, have since I started talking to her. My mother always told me that there was a girl out there for me, and it so happened that there is.

She doesn't like to believe me when I say that she is the only woman for me, but I do. From the moment I laid my eyes on her, and the moment I realized that it was 0300 and we still weren't finished talking. The times we finish each others sentences, or read each others minds. I know my past is painful to think about for her, but I continue to hold true to that promise to her that she would be my last.

I promised her from the beginning that I would be the one who stayed, and I continue to stay. I love her, head to toe. From all of her quirks and her wonderful qualities. I knew from the first day that I wanted to be hers. Always and forever. Now I am hers, and she is mine, and through all that we have been through during the short time we have been together, I feel the same.

I pray that God continues to bless us, and that we can have many years together. I know I wouldn't want to spend them with anyone else.

A Run Through the Woods

A few days ago I ran fourteen miles along a trail through the woods south of Lacey, Washington. We arrived much like Soldiers do, before the sun decided it was time to shine. In the darkness I ran, I had never been there before, and so had no clue as to where I was actually going or what it looked like. As I went, the moonlit shadows of the trees danced around me, and in front of me was nothing but darkness. I kept going, as if fearing no creature of the dark or false step.

As time passed I realized the darkness was being pushed away, the shadows that once danced around me, doing their utmost to frighten me, were beginning to give me shade instead. The path that lay ahead was no longer shrouded in the inky black, but instead illuminated by the light. Instead of the dark shapes that had been silhouetted by the moon, I saw a beautiful forest revealed before my eyes. Nature has a way of playing with our minds and testing us.

I saw this as an opportunity for a metaphor. That is just how my mind works, and the metaphor, if it is not apparent yet, was for life. People today often run blindly into the night without thinking a lot, then they look around them, see the shadows dance, the menacing shapes towering over them, and the black of night in front of them. That is not the point to stop though, that is the point we have to  

Hang Up Your Hat, This'll Take A While

Breathe. Something is obviously wrong when I have to remind myself to do that. Only every time I breathe, I realize how unstable I feel. It feels like I keep walking in the wrong direction, grasping at straws, or following a trail to nowhere. Holding on is the best I can do, and it gets harder as time goes on. It's a struggle, a never ending journey to a place I don't even know exists anymore.

Mired in a bog, knee deep in the mud I travel. Hesitant to move forward for fear of sinking further, unwilling to go back for fear I won't know the way, to the left and right look no better than ahead of me. Upon further reflection, I see a pattern, I'm a sucker for hard cases. All I want to do is help, but if I don't make it worse, it's unwelcome.

And maybe it's not her that's needs the help, maybe it's me. She won't help me understand though, no matter how I try. So what's the trouble? I don't really know, and that's the problem. It's like she doesn't want me to understand, or know what's going on with her. The not knowing is eating me up inside, she's gotten quite well under my skin. I'm afraid it's started affecting my work, my terrible attitude coming out on the undeserving. I've had to apologize more than once for being a little too sarcastic and apathetic.

So long as I can remember, I've been sensitive, over-much at times. Little things matter to me more than some of the big things, and I'm not sure she understands that. I'm also fairly jealous, though not loudly so. Since we're admitting things, felt that was a good one to add. More a side note than anything else. I still read the letters and emails she and I wrote to each other, and I remember where I was when I first read them all.

Afghanistan obviously, but specifically. I also remember one night when she was able to visit me, walking behind a civilian couple holding hands and following suite. One of my fondest memories of them all. Memories like those are what keeping me waiting though, that and she told me she'd like me to wait for her, it's easier said than done. Though as you can see, I am trying.

I listen to the songs we shared with each other, the Civil Wars, Lady Antebellum, and Tom Baxter to name a few, fairly often. Just brings back memories, which doesn't necessarily help, but nothing but her helps, so I might as well get as close as I can. I can only hope she remembers like I do, and someday tells me she wants to make more. Until then, well, I've got lots of space to write.

The Shining City in Our Minds

What use are memories if you have none? You can try and force them in, but what can you do when you realize that the part of the brain has blocked off memories? What good does showing things that don't spark memories? I personally find it more important to forge new memories with what we have now, and not worry about what happened before. Lets build on the foundation we have, rather than try and rework it.

I remember good times and bad, but it isn't always that easy for some people. Given the chance I feel it is better to make good memories with them, than worry over the memories they have. So that is what I will do, because I imagine a better life that way rather than forcing memories and when they don't remember, feel bad because they don't remember. I'm no genius, and anything I say I must be held accountable for, otherwise they are just words without meaning. I have meaning, and reasons for the words I write and the voice I use. At first it was for the purpose of publishing my thoughts and ideas, now it is because it makes a difference.

I know not how many people have actually read all of my posts here, but I know that one in particular shocked and surprised me with what she thought, and how it made her feel. I found my purpose in her words, and understood my meaning. All in all nothing prepared me for the proverbial tornado that would sweep my world away. I remain, not because I have to, but because I want to, because I understand myself, and have realized what I could be.

I turned my gaze, and as I did so, found myself face to face with the one thing I never imagined I would have. I do not know if anyone who reads this truly knows what it is like to feel that fear, the fear that there is nothing in this world that understands. I found someone who understands, and I don't think I can ever let go. There is always a catch however, and the catch here is that I don't know how long it will take, or how far I will have to go. It isn't that I'm not willing, it is that I know not what to expect, and with that comes trepidation.

Travel Logs Part II

These are the final days of my time in Fort Jackson, South Carolina. Some things I can not describe, and others I should not describe. These were days of strange decisions and wonderful people. I had come to Fort Jackson with a mind to not make friends or really do anything. That changed when I met those four women, who would go on to make it a life long memory of mine. I thank each of them for their part, and hope that I impacted them too.

More than that, I saw the Miss South Carolina contest, and visited North Carolina for a while. The biggest thing that I took out of every experience was that I would have missed the chances of a lifetime. To enjoy the company of amazing people from very different backgrounds and never forget the times we shared. I salute you, dear friends, for making this trip one of the best I have ever had.

So I graduated on the Commandants List, one of two. This means that I was recognized as one of the highest grade point averages. I suppose I have a natural affinity for Postal Operations. In any case, this is the final part of my travels in South Carolina, thank you everyone I met along the way.

Travel Logs Part I

So here, on these pages, I will recount the adventures I had while in South Carolina, which may not be exciting to some, but for me, it was an experience of a lifetime.  I went down in order to attend the Postal Operations course the Army gives for people in my job.  Though as I had known before going, but more than likely you did not, it is an inter-service course, so Marines, Navy, and Air Force all attend the school.  Fort Jackson, South Carolina is a hot, humid, and groggy place I have detested since I was here for AIT, thankfully in AIT I had friends to get through it.  I had to make new friends this time, which was okay, besides, what could I of expected?  Some of the old AIT folks attending the same school at the same time I did?  No, though such a thing would be awesome, it was unlikely to occur.

So what did it feel like to be back in Fort Jackson?  I am glad you asked, because I was just going to tell you how strange it was to see all the old haunts.  There was a certain amount of nostalgia for the simpler days, when all I knew was school, and the eight other people I had to live with.  Call me crazy, but it was not the place I was most nostalgic about, it was the people.  All the intricacies, eccentrics, and conflicts had a place, and it made it fulfilling to go through school.  Though it never felt that way when I was there, after it was over and I was gone and unlikely to see them again, I missed them.  You never truly miss something until you no longer have it.  That is so true, and I have experienced that in more than one way.  Right, well, back more on to the point, the first week was fine, got to hang out with Christopher Dresnek, my previous supervisor as he was up there for his Advanced Leaders Course, and that was fun.  However, it is taken up by in processing, and learning the ropes of military mail.

Second week stood out most when I broke out of my shell a little bit and actually started talking to people, that makes time pass easier, when you are not quiet and people seem to genuinely want to talk to you.  Getting into conversations like, “I wonder if someone invented this,” to which my reply was, “They had to of, otherwise it wouldn’t be around.”

Hearing things like, “I feel poofy.”  Makes waking up at five in the morning worthwhile.  At Charlie Training Support Battalion, you will get a whole mix of people from all over, and it makes for some fun times.

The greatest of those first two weeks was a situation in which Staff Sergeant Hollingsworth and myself were completing an exercise and SSG Hollingsworth decided to show me how to endorse a package by using one of his stamps saying, “You endorse this package with this stamp, like this” while pressing the stamp onto the paper.  When nothing was stamped, he stared in amazement that it did not work.  Then, looking at the bottom of the stamp and saying, “But it doesn’t work unless you take the cover off,” classic SSG Hollingsworth.  (Before you scream and yell about using real names, I got his permission before I even wrote down the quote.  Just putting that out there, take it or leave it.)

Third week came upon us as first platoon and we were assigned duty platoon for the week.  Not a bad gig just had to stand in front of the formation every morning with the guide on (company flag).  All the other duties were usually the kind the Army has, like a police call (picking up garbage) and therefore unpleasant.  The bonus that came with being in third week was that everyone was a lot more comfortable with each other, making class go by a lot easier.

When it came time to be in week four, I was feeling good, prepared to face whatever lay ahead.  That is the funny thing about life, there is always a surprise waiting around the corner.  Good, bad, ugly, and the indifferent, the important things are made with our bare hands, through work, hard work.  The easy way through life is never the best, making lasting relationships takes effort.  Wednesday night was incredibly chancy and anything could have gone wrong at any point.  That was beside the point however, because I went looking to have fun, and I left having an experience that will stay with me for a long time coming.  Who knew karaoke could forge such lasting bonds between friends?  I did not until Wednesday at the local bar. 

Moral Bankruptcy

According to Webster’s New Millennium™ Dictionary of English, moral bankruptcy is “the state of being devoid of morality and ethics, used especially for business and political entities.”  Most have heard of the controversy behind violent video games, and at one time violent television shows.  In fact, on May 9, 1961 Newton Minow had this to say to the National Association of Broadcasters:

“Is there no room on television to teach, to inform, to uplift, to stretch, to enlarge the capacities of our children?  Is there no room for programs deepening their understanding of children in other lands?  Is there no room for a children's news show explaining something to them about the world at their level of understanding?  Is there no room for reading the great literature of the past, for teaching them the great traditions of freedom?  There are some fine children's shows, but they are drowned out in the massive doses of cartoons, violence, and more violence.  Must these be your trademarks?  Search your consciences and see if you cannot offer more to your young beneficiaries whose future you guide so many hours each and every day.”

Minow saw in the broadcasting of television a serious lack of important shows.  The television of 1961 contained a miniscule amount of actual channels depending on where the receiver was set.  Now, in the present time, channels go into the hundreds ranging from similar to bizarre.  Television is now a part of life, people watching one sports game simply to see the commercials that show during it.

           

Also in today’s mediums of entertainment contain violence of any sort, usually set apart by no-blood, blood, blood and gore, and the apex called ultra-violent.  Of course, that is not the end of depravity, there is also sexual themes, sexual images, and sexual instances.  In the Beijing Olympics in 2008, table tennis players wore clothing with “curves” in order to attract people into the stands.  People were not coming to the events, so they had to make players more “attractive.”  Then of course, one has to look at that particular instance of Leryn Franco, a javelin thrower for Paraguay.  Over the Internet, she was a “star” not because she won an event, but because she looked good.  The purpose of the Olympics is to show athletic talent across nations, not a beauty pageant (which is in of itself a form of demeaning activity).

           

We have in a sense, decreased the moral standard over a period of few decades.  To some, it is progress, others, a retreat from a foundation of values.  Whichever it may be, people should be careful of what is taken in, because regardless if you see what effects it may have, the generations after can and will.  Society says women should work, why should they not have the choice?  It is difficult to understand why someone should pay for the raising of their own child if they wish to raise it themselves. Equality is not separating the things you can and cannot do; it is giving you the opportunity to choose.  That is what the founding fathers had based this nation on, the right to choose.  Our purpose on this earth is unknown, and often, one must question it.  Especially when one loses someone close before what seems his or her appointed time. 

Everything we do is dangerous in some way, and it is inevitable for us to pass, that is our mortal curse, but it is not that we might die; it is what we do with what we have.  I know I have spoken on this before, and said so many times, but it is true, and bears repeating.  Awake and alive, more than just words, but a modus operandi, to admit failure, but never let failure submit you.