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- I am -I am self-fulfilling.i push away that which i crave,certain that what i needis more than i deserve;and all the affirmations in the worldcannot color the black and white lensthat all my self-portraits are taken with.I am two-dimensional.the depth of me is too frighteningto even touch except during nights whenit threatens to choke me with its intensity,when it screams to be heard.and the thought of someone elseswimming in the murkiness of memakes me shake with fear.I am beautiful.but only to those who cannot seeinside the writhing mass behind my eyesthe demons that haunt my nightsand cloud my days.eyes are windows to the soul, they say;and i keep mine averted.tightly closed drapespainted with happy scenes.they never know the difference.I am lonely.i need someone to sweep in,make everything alright.simplistic i am, believing alwaysand never at the same time.So the circle begins and ends herein the pit of my stomachwhere the need for loveis always consumed
Travel Diary - Day 3Friday, 10:30 am - My uncle Brian and I are ready to go to the airport. They've activated the flightline for any civilian craft flying in for the show, and so we need to park them and make sure the planes are secure in the area. There's one problem: Once we get there, we find out that I need documentation to show proof of my training in Emergency Services. I knew I didn't have the card on me since I hadn't been issued one yet (even though I had completed all requirements), but I figured it was easily verifiable. WRONG! Johnny, what do we have for our losers? Brian calls the commander of my squadron in South Dakota and asks her to fax my card. She agrees to do it within 24 hours. We get as much documentation as we can off the national website, and the mission commander at the airport allows me to go on the flightline with the credentials I have, pending verification by my home unit. I am beyond relieved, and skip my way down to the line.2:30 pm - We're about done on the
Travel Diary - Day 2Thursday, 9 am – We awaken, basically tired as can be from the day before. The day is filled with such boring duties as ironing uniforms (I ironed my uncle's and my own while he and Teresa tried to cure their hangovers while watching a documentary on the SU-29 fighter jet). There goes 2 hours. I also spend an hour shining my boots until I can see my reflection in them. They both shake their heads at me in pity when I lay some toilet paper over the toes "to keep the dust off". I mention candidly what they can do with themselves, raising my eyebrows at my uncle's scuffed excuses for combat boots to illustrate my point. We eat lunch with Dani and go home to gear up for the night's festivities.7:00 pm – Teresa and I finally get a hold of my friend Scott, who is stationed with the Air Force Thunderbirds; the flight demonstration team that is the big draw of the air show. We agree to go to the hotel and pick him up. Uncle Brian says he'll hang out at the house until we're ready to g
Swan Song - euphoriathe gap between us is wideningwith time and the ebb of emotion's tideand we both know how it will endbut we cling to the little thingsand to each other just a bit longerfor neither of us is quite ready to let go.We will be someday,but not right now.It's funny how seeing youstanding therein front of the kitchen windowmakes me forget you're just here visiting nowand sometimes when you smileI am reminded of a sunset spent on the beachwhen I answered your question with a yes.Even now I would give anything I hadto ensure your happinessand somehow I know in my heart thatwe could never truly walk away from each other.I need you in my life. I always have.The person you were when we pushed each other awayis not you nowand it breaks my heart to knowthat the person I am saying goodbye tois the person who cried on our wedding nightspeechless with the wonder of it allOur chance may be over now,but wherever you go, know this:There was a time when we were something beauti
Travel Diary - Day 1Wednesday, 5:00 pm - We're 3 hours into our trip to Wisconsin. I'm on my 4th Mountain Dew, and somehow I don't have to urinate. I'm not sure if this is a good or bad thing, but I'm rolling with it. Teresa, my best friend, is driving. In between shrieking "I'm so excited!" and braking the minivan out of an extreme paranoia of speeding tickets, she manages to belt out a few bars of Michael Bolton with me. Yes. Michael Bolton. Female road trips are frightening things. We DID switch to Monster Ballads later in the night, and throw in some GooGoo Dolls in between.9:30 pm - We arrive at Dani's house. Dani is a distant cousin of mine. We have a beer, smoke a few cigarettes, and talk about our trip and upcoming weekend. We get up to go out to the bar, and suddenly we hear voices outside. Dani turns pleading, saying we can't go since the guy coming up to the house is apparently a drunken bozo. He staggers in, announces himself as Jason, and Teresa and I decide to have a bit of fun
Until We Are FreeMy dearest Anna,The last three months have been agony. Not at the hands of the enemy, but at the cruelty of the distance between us. I wish I could've written you sooner. As you know, covert ops doesn't allow it. How is our darling Michelle? The two of you smile down at me from the picture above my bunk every night. Sometimes the smiles bubble over into laughter. That's when I wake up - the icy touch of reality freezing the moment over just as I'm starting to enjoy it. The shelling has become a constant drone now. The only part of sanity I'm able to cling to is the thought of us together again.Yours eternally,- Paul-------------------To my darling Paul,I die a little inside each time I read your letter (and I have read it so often, dear), for I am horrified at what you must be going through. But to think of never reading your words again, no matter how terrible…I cannot bear it. If only I could be there to comfort you…if only you were here. Little Michelle misses you so…we bot
Being KitMonday, 8:00 pm - Talking to my uncle on Yahoo, whose house Teresa and I will be staying at when we go to Wisconsin. We're talking about the stuff we'll do while I'm out there, and suddenly it hits me. I don't have a photo ID. I misplaced my driver's license a few weeks ago. It's never REALLY been a problem since I don't normally need it. But going out of state? What if I want to have a beer? What if I want to drive? Good grief. I freak out, as does my uncle, who is now convinced I am out to ruin his weekend. He makes jokes about how I can go to the library while he and Teresa go hang out at the hangar party with the fighter pilots from the airshow, in the land of milk and honey brown beer. I scream, frantically type "brb I'm looking for teh thing", and the race is on.9:00 pm - I have looked all through my house, including each pair of pants in the pile of dirty laundry on the floor, AND the clean pile of laundry on one side of the bed [that has been there for about a week]
Angel Lullabyrest your cheek on linenand slowly close your eyesfold your wings around youwith the sound of angel sighslet me tell you storiesof castles, knights and kingsdragons killed and glory wonand the truth that honor bringssmile for me with sleepy gazeand let me touch your hairI'll wonder at its orange-blond shadeand your porcelain skin so fairdream of all that you could bewhen your angel wings are grownand someday you will see yourselfwhat I have always knownFor you are just a cherub nowwith a sweet and innocent facebut I promise you that someday soonyou'll grow in courage and graceAnd when the day has finally cometo open your wings and flyI'll pray I've done the best for youand tearfully wave goodbye.