Pour Decisions...

So... 4 day. Went to a bar. Twice. Got pretty drunk the first night. Danced. There may or may not be pictures. Last night was not NEARLY as fun. Too crowded. One of my boys pre-gamed a little TOO hard before we left. So, him sleeping in the cab. kosher. EXCEPT...when WE get out of the cab, we are walking through the parking lot. HE is dismounting the Stryker the day Bob was shot and killed. So when he SPRINTS inside, we all think he's gonna puke. time passes, we keep going down to check on him and he's mostly passed out. When he finally DOES come back up, he's pale as a ghost and looks terrified. So, there is a lot of talking done, and crisis is averted but it definitely colors the night a different shade.

In other news, I found out that occasionally my body just won't let me get buzzed. ZERO. ZILCH. That started making me mad. To add to the wackiness, at some point during the evening I was told to go dance so my mood would improve.

After sorta making a choice I was informed that the night before while um... what's that word....BLITZED; I had told said dance partner and a few of her friends that I couldn't dance because I was married. ?? Yeah, that was a shock to me too.

I don't have to wear a polo shirt at all. My me-ness will always shoot me down. So I had a good laugh about that, sorta. By this point I just wanted to split. Some Amerikan was causing problems with his German ex, so we had to intervene there and that was not pretty.

By the end of the night, we just wanted a cab and to get outta there. Same German girl we helped of course needed a cab back to her home so we let her ride with us, which ended up being her and one of my friends very nearly making out ON me in the back seat which lessened my mood further. The sounds of that were only slightly less enraging than someone chewing say......I dunno.... raw carrots with their mouth open 2 inches away from my ear. So we got back and hey what do you know, this cab ALSO cannot get on post so we have a 2 mile walk in the rain to top the night off. SWEET. So, I think that may be the last time I go out for a while. A long, long, while.

"Is it still me that makes you sweat? Am I who you think about in bed?
When the lights are dim and your hands are shaking as you're sliding off your dress?"

In other news, there was other news, but it's locked in a room right now being water boarded and then will be dissected until I can make sense of it all. I'm somewhere between not being surprised at all with some of the things I've learned and absolutely shocked and horrified. My mind is still in deliberations. Also, I learned that there IS in FACT be a light that never goes out. We'll see about that one too.

"When the lights are dim and your heart is racing as your fingers touch his skin.
I've got more wit, a better kiss, a hotter touch, a better fuck
Than any boy you'll ever meet, sweetie you had me
Girl I was it, look past the sweat, a better love deserving of ..."

Sonnets in the wind.

This day a few years ago, I lost something that I could never get back. And at the time, I wasn't even around to know what I'd lost, running around doing what I thought had to be done.

A little while later, I'd come to realize what it was and how heavy a cost it was. It's one of my treasures and one of my greatest tragedies. I carry it with me and examine it daily. For a long time, I thought I wouldn't be able to go on. The regret and guilt were crushing. They still are most days. Sometimes, you can scourge yourself with your greatest treasure as well. But, time as it does, passes. Weights don't lessen, but become more bearable The scourging? Well, that's personal preference.

"My little china girl, you shouldn't mess with me. I'll ruin everything you are."

He walked into the dust, carrying a wasteland inside, dust shaking loose from the cracks with every step. He discovered along the long lonely road that living wasn't nearly as easy as dying for her would have been. He stopped and noticed that with each step, he left a few sentences written in the stuff of his wounds along the way. Messages. Clues. Sonnets. All a trail. To trace him? To see where he went? To see where he was going? It didn't matter if she followed or not. He'd leave them just the same. Somehow, a message. A manifesto. An apology.

He stopped and stared at the stars. Looking for a way home, heedless of the fact the he had destroyed it years before. He stared for a bit. Hoping that somehow a way would appear to him. Nothing showed. Nothing ever did. He trudged on. Eyes forward but occasionally looking for something in his peripherals. Searching for a way to take all the hurt he'd caused back into himself to seal it from the ones the loved the most. But until he could find away to bottle or release those demons, he'd continue to try to become the man he should have been in the first place.

Loss after loss has a way of motivating great change. He stared into the nearly solid ghost of his loss. Looked at her eyes, brushed her lips with his hands, and wished for away to make his greatest failure as a man; fly free, unfettered by the destruction he had wrought. Fear had grown in him like a cancer, and it wasn't until after the time had passed that he was able to excise the sickness and leave it behind. Too little too late. One of the many stories of his life. But it never stopped him from looking backwards fondly, on the greatest time of his life.

For all the hurt, for everything lost, for everything that haunted his every moment; He had found nothing that could take the sunshine from that time. And that was the thing that kept him going. One foot in front of the other. Faces on the horizon. Two hearts in his chest pumping in time.

Miracles.

"If only You'd believe in miracles, baby
So would I."

Today was a pretty good day. Platoon Party out at the lake. Relaxing. Only here will you find people laughing about the times they got mortared. Funny story that one. :) Guess you'd have to have been there. Not much else going on. It's 0400 am and I'm obviously awake. I had to come back here at 1630 and sleep off the barbeque. According to my roommate I slept it off while sitting up, typing in my sleep on my computer. Good times. Sometimes, I have to wonder who's at the drivers' wheel when I'm out.


Giving a lot of thought lately what I want to do when this contract is up. There's a lot of options on the table. Now, I just have to pick the one that's gonna work out best. And that's gonna be tricky. There's a lot to consider and a lot of different ways to look at my life at this point. Which introduces more variables. So that should be fun.

Setting Fire to Sleeping Giants.

The night was heavy, hot, and cold. A paradox. But only from the outside. He tears at the bandages trying to get the last of the blood to shake free. The dust and sand falling to the floor, he stood unabashed at what was given to him and what he returned. Freely, honestly, and without malice.

"What if I wanted to fight? Beg for the rest of my life? What would you do?"

He watched the pain unfold. Origami in reverse. Trying to get to the roots. The core. The center of the Gordian Knot. To see it released and watch her arise resplendent and whole. The weight released.

"You say you wanted more. What are you waiting for? I'm not running from you."

But, like all things, his hands destroyed whatever they touched. His voice tinged with too much sorrow, guilt, and pain to be heard clearly. His dusty boots back on his feet, past in flames; he continued his walk alone.

"I tried to be someone else, but nothing seemed to change.
I know now, this is who I really am inside.
Finally found myself fighting for a chance.
I know now, this is who I really am."

There are things...

That you just can't explain. Because no one would understand. That's life. You deal with it, nurse it, drink with it, sleep and wake up with it. And that's the way it is. You get by.

"Pain's just a pulse if you just stop feeling it."