Fever

I am covered in rage, 

It wraps around me like a quilt,

It chokes me like a garrote,

Each square is something that has gone horribly wrong,

One square is doing more than my share,

Another is that I shared and swallowed,

Here's one for broken promises and scorned trust,

On and on they connect together,

Layers cover me now, 

I burn beneath its bulk,

My heart is beating loudly in every part of my body,

I hear it through the quilt,

This rage will not be denied, not now,

Not this time, not ever, again,

Yet somehow this rage comforts me,

Somehow it vindicates my every act,

It explains just how bad it was!

The tears now come, powerful and burning,

Tears of lost trust, tears of forgotten wrongs, of obstructed dreams;

I cry, how I cry!

Like a fever breaks with sweat,

So my rage dispels with these scalding tears,

No more and never again will I allow love to be an obstacle to me,

Not even one single time will I believe I need another's love to guide me...never!

Separate Celebration

I find myself between two worlds again. Am I wiser for the passage? Am I more useful where it matters? I shed tears at the loss of time with my children, the loss of the memory of touch with my soul mate, and the loss of parts of me that needed to go anyway.

Sacrifices realized less as loss and more as investment. Time and talent laid on the altar of my country, to support our sometimes enigmatic interests. I grasp to find the balance, which sacrifices have been worth it. I believe that sacrifice is always useful but it is worth the loss? I have decided that it is not. Not any longer, no,

Between worlds is fine with me and manageable for my soul mate. The children are the innocent victims. The world's woes assault them in every country of the world, they didn't make any choices, we make the misguided choices for them. I think we have lost sight of what is best for our children. I have numbered myself among those who think children are blessed to get adults to support and provide for them, and that the children need to better realize this. I don't number myself thus any longer.

Our society is so short sighted in this regard. We think teen pregnancy is a problem for women. We think divorce is a serious problem facing married adults. We think abuse only hurts the one getting abused. We think recession, debt, and inflation are adult problems, and that our political accomplishments today get paid for by this generations adults. All these decisions do affect adults, but affect children even so much more.

My children are the innocent victims of my sacrifice for my country. Every one tells them to be proud, and I am sure they are a bit proud of me, but they are hurting inside, pain has a way of aging us beyond our natural years, in this way I believe my children have aged. Will this be good for them? What course will this pain set their life on? I don't know, the only redeeming thing I can say is that I am committed to be there, in every stage of their life.

Between these worlds I get to look at decisions in my life with a kind of detached interest.

I watched my relationship with my soul mate with much interest, not sure of what would happen, in the past deployments were the catalyst that brought even more pain into my married relationships. This time was completely different, deployment became the catalyst to find even deeper intimacy of thought and communication. I have watched as our platonic love and desire have grown far more than I could track. I still stand agape at the strong hearted determination that my soul mate has shown as a mother for our children, though two aren't hers by birth. She has more completely adopted them into her heart than if there were paper to prove it. Respect has also grown, as we have shared the trials albeit through a phone or a computer.

My sacrifices in regards to my children may very well have been recouped by my soul mate's aggressive love and strengthened bonds of friendship with the children, which surely couldn't happen as easily with my presence there. They have leaned on her and found that she is trustworthy. That she is as sturdy in mind and heart as an oak. Her beauty is unmatched in my eyes for many reasons besides these, but I will save those for poems that are just for her.

I do wrestle with many feelings and thoughts about deployment. Some sacrifices make one stronger in character, and not just more cynical. Perhaps these sacrifices of mine...these 21 months have been profitable. What do you think?

Not there yet

I have plenty of time to contemplate here between two worlds. The world I am leaving was companionated, comfortable and cozy. The world I am approaching is unknown. It is a C-130 flight away, I could guess when it would take place but it would an uneducated one, lets just say less than a week.

From this vantage point I can see a wider view of both worlds. My children stand waving goodbye to me from my 'old world'. Their tears stain my soul and tear at my resolve. They clutch me as if I embody their entire existence. To them perhaps I seem to.

My wife sits beside me in that world, holding onto those last shared minutes as if each one were a sparkling treasure, yet they slip from her hand as if they are falling out of her hand into the ocean lost forever, but oh how beautiful those last few minutes remain in our minds and hearts.

I stand with my bags, with only bare glimpses of my new world in my mind. Still standing as bravely as I can muster with my insecurities and questions. I move through them as if they are bullets raining on my downhill, the resistance I face is almost an audible scraping.

The pain is palpable and strong hitting us in waves, tears squeeze out of our closed eyes, we don't want to look all these fears in the face. We find a second of solace in our embrace. I put my wife in the car, heave myself away from her; embrace and embark on my personal journey to another world. She says goodbye and hopes that it isn't the last one.

I sit between now, between two worlds that both hold growth and promise, yet also pain and risk. I juggle emotions, insights, thoughts, beliefs, and dreams.

I know that God has use for me, and hope for what that use might be. I tremble in excitement at the myriad of ways I can be shaped, all the gold that can be excavated from these discoveries, parts of me to be found and once found used to more fully become myself; effecting all the relationships in my life: friends, colleagues, ex-spouses, my children, my wife, my parents, my brothers, my Marines, and so many people that will wash ashore in my life, ready to be heard, ready to be helped back to a life of their own.

Please join me on this adventure. Bring your logic, your irresponsible commitments, and your feelings. Grow with me, through the pain, the loss, the blessings, and the loss.