For the record I never liked being alone. Feeling like an outcast since i was a kid, well the one thing I have always wanted is to belong. My whole life people tell me I'm special, I'm great, I'm all that and a bag of chips, what have you. But being "better" is not really a better way to be. You are always apart, very aware of just how different you are. You laugh at the wrong places, and don't get the jokes that have everyone in tears. You get taken advantage of and are thought to be Gullable. You get called "the dumbest smart person" and though you try, you'll NEVER just be one of the guys.
Affections are taken too lightly, oddities are taken too serously, and always the feeling of well strangeness, will doom any relationship. No matter how you hope, no matter how you pray or outright beg, no one will stay with you and no one will ever understand. This is what it means to be "special" this is what my life is like, always has been like. I am loved by many, but none, none can ever penatrate to the lonely place where the whispers are They'll leave you eventually. You'll be alone in the end. True to form most often just because of the way things work out I end up very much alone, always looking over my shoulder wishing I could go back.
This latest Debacle with Erika has collapsed the last fleeting hope I had that, even if it wasn't her, it was possible. But now I'm lead to one inescapable conclusion. I am alone. I always have been, I always will be, and the time has come and gone when i had a chance to be happy. Now I just have to accept my fate and admit to myself as much as anyone else that tis is the way it is.
ever since my first tour in Iraq, I had a sneaking suspicion that i would not live long enough to have a wife or family. As time went on that suspicion became an obsession, and finally a desperation. I am now sure that come what may I will not live long enought to see the day when I have either wife or kids. I suppose it's sad. To watch your dreams be crushed by reality, No man should have to burry their dreams, but as does so often happen the "real" world has many demands, and we must all march to the tune that therest of the world sets.
Today I went to Quanico supplies. It's great for all the folks that are "gear queers" or those guys that have all sorts of shit in their kit they'll never realistically use. You know that Quartermaster that has a PAS13 (thermal sight) on his M-4 (you know, the dumb schmuck that still hasn't figgured out that thermals don't work too well durring the day). While I was in there I began thinking like I was about to go again, and I felt strangly more comfortable getting peices of kit then I do getting new jeans. So while i was looking as some very nicly priced pistols, I sighed and realized that no matter how much I may want to be different, this is who I am.
I suppose Mureen O'hera said it best in Rio Grande. When the LTC's son asked his estranged wife about what his father was like, she said he was a very lonely man, her son replied that he was said to be a great soldier, to which she replied, that "its hateful duty that makes him such a great soldier, an such a lonely man"
I was born different, I was born "special", and though I hate it, and rebelled against this distinction, at the end of the day I will always be alone. Thank God I have so much strength of charictor, because I doubt many others could have delt with such soul crushing lonlienss for their whole lives.