a valley...
Days like this the dark cave of my bed with the warm side of my Tim, begs me to stay and ponder the white rays of cold, Denver sunlight piercing my morning. The memory of days like this will soon pass and in its place an unknown emotion that troubles me today. I cried during my out–processing meeting this morning. I keep thinking I’m over this separation, but I’m not. They should call it what it really is. Divorce. No matter how painful or what a rotten partner the military was, it still hurts me to say “the end”.
I drag my feet through the grey green motions of commander’s calls and meetings. All of those commitments speak volumes about the cut that separates me. It’s neither easy nor simple. It’s not like pulling off the bandage quickly. It’s that agonizing but necessary finish. I feel like that hiker who got pinned between the mountain and a rock and had to saw himself free using a pocket knife. It’s a bloody awful mess people. I feel like I’m letting everyone down. No one I know, mind you… all those people want me out.
I feel bad for the little old lady I saw at the market today who shyly smiled and said, “You look nice all dressed up like that”. I didn’t look nice, those cammies aren’t very flattering, but she looked at me like I was someone important. Even if my job isn’t defending her directly, it made her smile to see me. A simple reminder of all the other young men and women who are out there somewhere doing their best to serve the country they believe in.
The conflict isn’t hard to understand. My gut tells me this is alright and I shouldn’t feel bad for leaving, but my tears lead me to believe my gut hasn’t talked things over with the rest of me.
I drag my feet through the grey green motions of commander’s calls and meetings. All of those commitments speak volumes about the cut that separates me. It’s neither easy nor simple. It’s not like pulling off the bandage quickly. It’s that agonizing but necessary finish. I feel like that hiker who got pinned between the mountain and a rock and had to saw himself free using a pocket knife. It’s a bloody awful mess people. I feel like I’m letting everyone down. No one I know, mind you… all those people want me out.
I feel bad for the little old lady I saw at the market today who shyly smiled and said, “You look nice all dressed up like that”. I didn’t look nice, those cammies aren’t very flattering, but she looked at me like I was someone important. Even if my job isn’t defending her directly, it made her smile to see me. A simple reminder of all the other young men and women who are out there somewhere doing their best to serve the country they believe in.
The conflict isn’t hard to understand. My gut tells me this is alright and I shouldn’t feel bad for leaving, but my tears lead me to believe my gut hasn’t talked things over with the rest of me.
posted by saucybritches at
11/07/2005 08:30:00 PM
2 Comments:
When my brother retired from the Coast Guard after over 20 years he burned his uniforms.
He led a distinguished career, rising from near-illiterate nobody boot to officer, earning a Master's Degree and ultimately becoming PA (through an Air force program out of Offutt, of all places).
But he so despised the way he was treated by the USCG, especially toward the end, that he destroyed nearly his whole past after retirement. To this day he is entirely unsentimental about it.
Then again, he always was stubborn.
Congratulations on your, uh, divorce.
Erin this is a big step. You were very young when you joined the military--it is kind of like having the same boyfriend since you were 13--its all you know.
You have grown up, but in the cocoon of the military, now it is like leaving home all over again, scary but exciting. How nice to have that nice guy by your side.
You are very talented and you have big things ahead of you.
Post a Comment
<< Home