February 28th, 2006 by C.A. Dubois

» Thought my spelling was bad before …«

Look, I have a smile on my face right now- do you see it? I hope so, it’s because YOU put it there.

Why me, Cyli?

YES YOU- If you only knew how good it is to see you here on my blog – and how good it is to be blogging right now.

Okay, I know I am being cryptic. First things first: I am a liar – a big-fat-huge-chunky monkey-liar.

There now that that is out of the way. Hi Folks. Guess who???

“Cyli, you’re scaring me – what’s with the weird blog post?”

Take a deep breath folks – I am okay. I just don’t know how to start this blog post. I’m still working on finishing up the request from my daughters- the rest of the story about our Pre-Wedding-night and our wedding day and night.

BUT- I got a little side-tracked. OH HELL I am lying like a cheap oriental rug. I got A LOT sidetracked. And that is kinda what is hard to explain right now.

If you all knew the “lie-mail” I get. Emails from all around the country (and sometimes world) claiming I am biggest liar on face of planet. (Ahhh now the whole statement I made above makes a smidge of sense eh?) These “lie-mails” don’t bother me. I purposely re-arrange facts on my blog, like names, timelines, or dates – so people don’t know or can’t recognize me positively. It’s the nature of the business I am in. You don’t do what I’ve been doing, for as many years as I have been doing it and not pick up a few tricks of trade, ya know?

So, first of all, the sweet weekend wake up done by my daughters, well maybe it didn’t happen just a few weekends ago. Maybe it happened a little longer ago then I alluded. Maybe.

And Maybe, the real reason my blog has been so weird (even for me) is because of “why” it happened a little longer ago then I eluded. Ya’ll know me. I ain’t a cheesy quiz taker, or meme-doer, but wow, for a while there was a lot of that stuff around here eh? This blog also took on a much more military oriented slant. Weird-stuff even for me.

So, let’s catch my regular blog readers up to speed. When, Where, How, Who, What, and eh? (And then you will truly understand why I feel like that fishie on the side of my blog – out of water)

You remember, (if you’re a regular) I went for my daddy. I found him too. Yep I did. But I didn’t blog about it, except for one post. So what happened? Truthfully, I can’t say. What I can say, is listen to and read Phil Collin’s Lyrics to “In The Air Tonight” – Daddy you bastard!

So I found him – life goes on right? Yep it does. And the next question that comes to a lot of my reader’s minds is about David. (I got a lot of emails about this) David went to Iraq?? HOLY SHIT. What happened? One minute he was a Spies-R-Us crew member, the next he is a Marine in Iraq??? Yes, and that is exactly how it happened too.

You see while I was off finding daddy, David found me. Well, he found out about me. Poor David, he himself had to tell so many lies during his career. But his head never knew a lie till mine hit him. It’s hard to find out your wife – she is more then she ever said. It’s even harder to understand why the lies existed in the first place.

Things happened while I tied up strings with regards to daddy. David went back to being Lean, Green and a True Marine. He was gone before Christmas folks. *shrug*

But still, life goes on….

And go on, it did. For a brief time, I was home-ish. I did take Tim to his recruiters. My girls did wake me up that weekend morning and request to hear about the nights I am currently writing of. And for a smidge of time, life was un-typically quiet. But, like normal, I blinked and missed that quiet. LMAO

When things were cleared up with the daddy shit, I received my next assignment. Wish ya’ll could have seen the look on my face for that…. “You want me to do what, with whom, for how many doggie biscuits?”

Oh yeah, even I, the queen of nothing surprises me, was floored.

Within days I was declared safe for any pound (had all my shots) given the coolest set of digitally altered camies, (digital imaging has nothing on this stuff folks) and attained new rank. Whoaaaaa…

Then they stuck my tiny ass on a plane (or a couple of them) and then a skid (Huey) and then on a phrog (pronounced frog-a ch-46) -I hopped more lily pads(Tie down places for birds{helicopters}) then allowed, and finally in a hummer….and I arrived as the highly weird, embedded military journalist I am – here at Camp Chunky Monkey.

Now for truths sake, I am not a military journalist; nor is this camp called Chunky Monkey – or it wasn’t….hee hee hee

Freaky Tiki eh?

You ain’t just whistling Dixie if you nodded yes.

You think my spelling was bad before – phhhhhhft

My whole military career I spent my time making sure no one knew I was military. 99.9% of the time I was someone else. That’s why I have done so many things in so little time. Assignment after assignment I was Joe blow regular, posing as {insert whatever job here} while I investigated that which needed investigating. Again, I am doing just that….only now, I am back in the military in a very real way.

I’m learning folks. Sand – whoaaaa, not like beach sand – powdery, thick, constantly in everything – even coffee….i hated sand my whole life. I have a totally new, all-encompassing hatred for it now. I want one cup of coffee with no gritty, powdery, dry sand in my mouth. Oh well, as the saying goes, “Shit in one hand wish in the other and see which one weighs more”.

IED’s – as a firefighter this term meant, Incendiary Explosive Device. Now it means Improvised Explosive Device – my opinion of them – IMPROVISED MY ASS!!!! My hummer, (well not mine, but the one with my shit in it) met with one of these. (guess the LCN’s {Local Country National’s} they don’t like my blog over here eh?) See if I link to them -hmmmpfh!

Mortar- Not Just for cementing bricks anymore!!!!!

I used to listen to my inside voice (my polite voice/words) and my outside voice (my don’t-give-a-fuck-voice/words) but now I also listen to “the Big Voice”, the alarm for when rockets attack…..and on a side note – It really is a science – HOLY FUCK

I live in a tin – not a hut, hootch, BAQ, or even APT.

Chow- I no longer say because I am saying goodbye to someone (Ciao – Italian Word) now I say it because I am hungry and want it.

When it rains – IT POURS – and it hurts…bigtime.

And I have two words I never knew existed – CAMEL SPIDER (This is as big as my foot- no SHIT) I want one for a pet!!!!!

When I got here to Camp Chunky Monkey – I came in under IDF (In Direct Fire) and forgot to duck….whenever there is TIC (troops in contact) you run in that hunching, “I gotta gun and people are shooting at me” way. I always forget that ducking-thing. *shrug*

But anyway as I got inside the wire (fence, border, perimeter, base) I found one thing that disturbed me most.

A Tall, Long, Lean, Green, US Marine – a really pissed off, almost gonna kill me – Marine. He wasn’t happy with my cocky smile, my cute eyes and my Cyli voice saying, “Honey I’m home.”

Go figure…..

So, that is what is going on folks. I’d love to blog hop around, but time is limited when I get on this thing. Well I spend a lot of time on pc, but not for fun blogging purposes. I’m busy doing what I do, how I do it, and renaming everything in Camp Chunky Monkey…..this Marine Corps Speak is so boring….. LMAO

Remember when I told you I wish you could have seen the look on my face when they gave me my next assignment?

They really *do* want me to do that, with them, for barely any doggie biscuits…….

Why Not – Right?

February 27th, 2006 by C.A. Dubois

» A Short Intermission«

I have a very dear and true friend I don’t mention on this blog. She is shy and asked me not to place her life in the writing found on this blog. Because she is so dear to me, I agreed. Her name is Saucy.

I wouldn’t be saying anything about her now, except – well this blog is my safe my place as you all know. I come here to express myself when no where else feel safe. That’s why I am making this post.

Anyway, Saucy has had a wonderful thing happen. She fell in love with an incredible, excellent man. Last night via IM Saucy told me he plans to marry her. My first words were, “Are you shittin me?”

Then I ran out of my office and had to walk.

You see right now Saucy and I can’t be near each other. Work, Life, Details – they all prevent it. That’s why I had to walk. Saucy has been by my side forever. She is calm and nurtuing and witty and brilliant in ways I’ll never be. She is one of the most genuine souls you’ll ever know.

I’m not a mushy girl. I don’t ever recall wanting to be near another female and squeal with delight as her eyes light up with love and she reveals she is marrying the only man for her – until last night- until Saucy told me about her Lt Sexy. (He is military and I tease him with that nickname)

Did you read that Saucy, I didn’t walk away from my pc in anger or because I was upset with you or Lt Sexy. I walked away so I could clear my head of the regrets I have because I am not there to hug you and congratulate you. You’ll tell me I am stupid for that. I’ll tell you to fuck off. You tell me to fuck off, and we’ll laugh. *grin*

When you love someone, wanting the very best for them is a natural feeling. Seeing them attain it – is a blessing. Saucy and her Lt Sexy blessed me and I am absolutely thrilled for them both. I hope she smashes wedding cake in his pretty boy face! (Just kidding – oh wait, no I am not.)

Saucy, you will never know how very much you mean to me. Congratulations Sweetheart…. I’m sorry I am not there to celebrate with you. I heard this song yesterday before you and I spoke and well – it says it all.

“One Friend”

I always thought you were the best; I guess I always will. I always felt that we were blessed, And I feel that way, still. Sometimes we took the hard road, But we always saw it through. If I had only one friend left, I’d want it to be you.

Sometimes the world was on our side; Sometimes it wasn’t fair. Sometimes it gave a helping hand; Sometimes we didn’t care. ‘Cause when we were together, It made the dream come true. If I had only one friend left, I’d want it to be you.

Someone who understands me, And knows me inside out. And helps keep me together, And believes without a doubt, That I could move a mountain: Someone to tell it to. If I had only one friend left, I’d want it to be you.

‘Cause when we were together, It made the dream come true. If I had only one friend left, I’d want it to be you.

Someone who understands me, And knows me inside out. And helps keep me together, And believes without a doubt, That I could move a mountain: Someone to tell it to. If I had only one friend left, I’d want it to be you.

Written by Dan Seals.( © Pink Pig Music.)From “San Antone”, © 1984, Capitol.

Congrats Saucy and Lt Sexy. I love you both.

Cyl

P.S. Welcome to the family Lt Sexy.

February 16th, 2006 by C.A. Dubois

» Join the Club«

David, I’m writing this for you. So you could see it too…

Recruiters Office at Zero Too Fucking Early:

We sat in three stiff chairs in front of the Recruiters desk. The recruiter and I were speaking of David, where he was, what his MOS was. I was on Tim’s right. To the left of Tim sat Jo. Both of them were exhausted. Neither of them really listened to the Gunnery Sgt and I speaking. Normally they would have listened, but this morning they can’t. This morning they are both lost in the realization that for at least the next 13 weeks, they won’t see each other. There won’t be any late night calls, or weekend visits. At the most they will have letters to read – sometimes.

“So Miss Dubois,” The Gunnery Sgt turns to Jo. “Timothy tells me you are a concert pianist.”

Tim smiles. Jo’s eyes fly open. She is shocked, I can see it. Jo looks to Tim only for a second before she replies to the Gunny. “Yes Sir.”

I want to laugh at her shock and I want to cry for her. Of course he mentioned you silly girl, he loves you; I think to myself. I watch her reaction as the Gunnery Sgt begins to question her about playing the piano. She wants to hold his hand. I know he wants to hold hers, but they aren’t holding hands. There are no PDA’s in the Marine Corps. (PDA = Public Displays of Affection)

The clock on the wall clicks as yet another minute ticks by. Tim and Jo are trying to maintain some semblance of normalcy. But with each loud click of the clock, they look to it, then to each other. It is the sound of their joint life together slowly coming to a shift. Sitting in that office, you can feel them grasping for just one thing – more time together.

“Do you graduate school this year Miss Dubois?”

Jo shakes her head no – slowly. She is looking at the Gunnery Sgt as if he is crazy. “I’m 14, I can’t graduate yet. I wish I could. I have things to get done.”

Now it is the Gunny’s turn to be shocked. Obviously he did not know Jo was 14. He looks at me as if to question my parenting skills. How dare I let my eighteen year old future Marine date a 14 year old girl? I smile.

The clock clicks again. Now three sets of eyes look up at it. Gunny stands up and clears his throat. That is his signal. There is only three more minutes before he will place Tim in his vehicle and drive Tim away. “Excuse me, I have something I need to check on. We’ll leave at zero five.” The Gunny announces. Tim stands up. “Yes Gunny,” he says almost automatically. Jo watches from her chair. She watches Gunny leave. I can see her hatred for him – her misplaced hatred.

To Jo, this Gunnery Sgt is taking her love away. She’ll hate him for a while for that one fact alone. It doesn’t matter that Tim volunteered.

I try not to snicker. My heart aches for them, it really does – but I have so been there done that!

As soon as the Gunny leaves the room, Jo and Tim find each others’ eyes. They need time alone, but hell if I am going out in the cold. “Timothy, go out to the car and check to make sure you didn’t leave anything behind.” I order our son. Both kids look at me as if I have lost my mind. Tim isn’t allowed to bring anything with him and we all know it.

“But mom….”

I stand up. Gunny reappears at the door. “Are you disobeying your mother son?” Gunny’s voice booms. “In this Marine Corps we honor our mothers boy – get your butt out there.”

Tim and Jo both jump. They didn’t see the Gunny nearby. They didn’t know the Gunny only went to check on something in order to give us private time. Tim mutters an apology to me and races to the door. Jo’s left watching him leave. The Gunny and I exchange knowing, hidden smiles.

“Jo, go make sure he doesn’t snag my CD.” I tell my silly girl. She never even looked at me, or replied. She darted out that door so fast that our heads should have spun. Now Gunny and I watch them through the plate glass window of the office.

My car is locked. Tim couldn’t get in if he tried. He tried, but he didn’t get far. Jo was suddenly at his side and as soon has her hand touched his while he yanked nervously at the door latch, he forgot about checking my car and pulled her into his arms.

“She is young.” The Gunny gruffly states. I don’t look at him. I’m too busy watching the soft whispers and promises I know are being exchanged between the kids.

“Yeah, but not too young.”

“She’s fourteen!” Gunny slips and allows his disapproval to be known. “Fourteen year old girls don’t wait forever Ma’am.”

I smile even more. Now I glance into the Gunny’s eyes. It is I who has the skeptical look on my face. I glance back at the kids. Tim checks his watch. Already he is prepared to follow orders. He has one more minute. He pulls away from Jo enough to be able to cup her face in his hands.

He is so much like his father….

The Gunnery Sgt says no more. Perhaps he thinks I am some wishy washy mommy who believes in some sweet, young love. It’s obvious he disapproves. Trust me I understand.

The clock clicks. It is time to go. Oddly, I find myself grasping for more time, and not for me – but for them. Gunny gathers everything he needs. There is no sense in bringing the kids back inside. We’ll walk out together. Tim will pull away from Jo. She might get one more hug or a kiss to the cheek, but for now they are going to have to learn to get through each day and night alone.

The Gunny holds the door open for me. “We don’t have any time for goodbyes Ma’am” he tells me very softly. I understand that. I see the new snow that will cause traffic snarl ups. I also know – now – finally, what it is like to be in this position as a mom.

This mom doesn’t need or want an extended goodbye. It would probably kill her. Just as I predicted, Tim nearly drops his hands away from Jo as we approach. Be cool Cyl. Don’t drag his heart through the mud, I tell myself.

“Do you have everything?” I ask in some insane, supposedly happy voice. “Yes Ma’am.” Tim replies in the same tone. Gunny shakes my hand, and reaches for Jo’s. Jo stares at his hand and she nods to the Gunny, but she’ll not accept his handshake.

Gunny smiles politely, tells Jo it was a pleasure to meet her, and he says to Tim, “Say Goodbye to your mother, son.” Then Gunny gets into his SUV.

Tim smiles. I can see he is still barely clasping Jo’s hand. He looks to her, he smiles and kisses her cheek. There is one last second between them. One that holds everything they want to say but can’t, and then he releases her. He walks my way. I get the big hug!

“I’ll be okay” he whispers in my ear. I laugh, openly and heartily laugh. He looks at me in confusion.

“Do I look I worried?” I ask him. He smiles, gratefully. He never let’s go of my hand that he’s grasped, but he reaches for Jo. He kisses her cheek one last time, whispers something in her ear and I see the glimmer of tears start to form in her eyes.

“Get out of here.” I growl. “We’re going to breakfast damnit.”

Tim takes a step away. He’s let go of Jo’s hand now. He still holds mine. “Tell dad….” His voice chokes away.

“I will…I promise….”

I let go of his hand. I had to. He stopped in his place and continued to squeeze my hand. He wasn’t going to let go. As soon as I pull my hand away, he looks down at it. He nods, more to himself then to us. Then with one last look into my eyes, one that says “Here I go” he darts around the back of the Gunny’s SUV and we hear more then see him get in and shut the door.

Jo and I step back a few paces as the Gunny pulls out. We can see Tim through the SUV windows, but strategically we’re standing on the driver’s side of the vehicle. I parked where I did for a reason, and gratefully, it worked. Jo won’t wave goodbye over or through the Gunny, and Tim won’t be forced to wave back.

It is so hard to say goodbye like this. Heaven knows I have done it enough. And it is always that last wave, that last longing look that kills me – ALWAYS. By parking and then standing on the driver’s side of the SUV, I thought I’d save myself from that.

But, then – in typical fashion – The Gunny spoils my plan. He waves to us and looks to Tim. Tim follows his recruiters lead. Son of a bitch … hahahahah

We wave one last time and stand there as we watch the SUV pull away. We watch it until we can’t see it anymore. Then we stand there a few minutes, watching nothing.

I don’t have to say a word to Jo. The sound of my keys leaving my pocket is enough to signal it is time for us to go home. I unlock the car automatically. We go to our respective sides and slide in. It’s cold, but we don’t notice. I put the keys into the ignition but I don’t turn over the engine. Jo looks out her window. She’s watching where the Gunny pulled out from. Maybe they’ll come back. Maybe they forgot something. Maybe she will get to see him one more time. Or Not.

When I don’t turn the car on, she finally looks towards me. She is still holding back the large tears swimming in her eyes. I reach past her, into the glove box. I immediately find what I am looking for, slam the glove box shut and then stare out the windshield.

No one could understand how much I hate what I am about to do. I’d save her from it, if I could. But I can’t, and I know it. Silently I curse David of all people. Ha ha ha. I curse him because I can, because it is safe to curse him, because he will understand.

Jo is staring at me as I chuckle bitterly to myself. I allow my tears to fall. I’m used to them by now. These tears of goodbye are the only badges of honor we women of military men are allowed really. Their bitter sweet, intermingled with pride, regret, hope and fear. They are some of the best tears – bested only by those of homecomings.

Without looking to Jo, I reach my left hand out and open it, palm side up. “Welcome to the club” I whisper as I stare out the windshield.

I hear her gasp. I feel her tiny fingers gently extract the small item in my hands. I refuse to look at her as she begins to cry. Now I turn the car on.

On my jacket, I wear an old, nearly ancient American Flag pin. Tucked behind that pin are two very old, very tattered ribbons. One ribbon is gold colored, the other red – United States Marine Corps Colors. I wear this pin year round. I have worn it every day since I was five or six years old. Since the first time I remember my daddy deploying. My daddy gave me the pin the day he left. I added the ribbons. That was over 30 years ago. Jo now struggles to get the pin back off her flag, so she can pin it and the gold and red ribbons attached to her jacket.

I back the car out of its parking space and head to the same street the Gunny just drove away on. Out of the corner of my eye I see her eyeing her new pin. It is placed safely over her heart. I have no doubt; it will remain there for a very long time.

We start the drive back to my place. It isn’t until we get on the interstate that she finally whispers the one question every spouse who says goodbye to their military loved one asks – “now what?”

My only answer is to push in the CD that had been sitting in my CD player tray. SheDaisy’s song begins and fills the car with its heartfelt lyrics. She’s heard the song hundreds of times before – but never has she understood it – until now.

“You bitch” she utters through tears and sobs.

I chuckle through my own tears. All I can think is, “I didn’t fall in love with him Miss Thang…that’s all you babe…” But I don’t say it. Instead I nod and smile through the tears.

“You asked” I offer honestly. Neither of us laugh. We listen and we’re each lost in our thoughts of Tim. I also think of my David. WOW, now I have two men gone. I’ve joined a new club. Crap.

“Mom, I’m not hungry. I think I’m gonna puke…” Jo mutters. she won’t puke, but I knwo the feeling she has.

“I lied about breakfast Jo.”

“MOM”

“He thinks we’re safely in a booth cutting up as we order eggs. Let him think it damnit.”

The song ends with the words, “Please….come home soon…” Jo looks at me. tears stain her face. I glance at her as I drive.

“Over easy right?” she manages a weak grin.

“Right!”

——-

Semper Fi Tim and David – man do you guys owe me

Technorati Tags: The Club Semper Fi I’m so proud

February 16th, 2006 by C.A. Dubois

» A Letter to Dude – or Ex-Dude «

Dude,

There is so much I want to say to you. And so little space. Technically, your life is your own, what happens in it – your business. However, once you brought me into this by claiming what you did about me… you brought me into it.

Do you know how much I ache for your soul right now Dude? Does that surprise you? A lot of times I want to be angry at all of this. Who I am and my friendship with your future ex-wife is not important. But every time I get angry, or try to, I get the image of you in my mind. You poor thing.

It hurts when someone doesn’t love you. It hurts when reality starts coming at you from every angle. She is so beautiful Dude, and not just physically, but inside her soul. Her beauty and potential is so striking it caught my eye immediately. I wanted to be her friend. She is the ONLY friend on my buddy list. Every other name is work related.

We both supposedly love her. We both want her in our life. I’ll admit it to every one right now, I need her in my life. I love her. She is my best friend and I would be lost and alone without her.

No wonder you are clinging pitifully to her even though she doesn’t love or want you, or even need you anymore. That has got to hurt like hell Dude. I ache for you I really do.

I want you to know why you won’t ever get her back, and more importantly why you never had her to begin with. She hid herself from you. At first I didn’t know why she did that. Then you and I started talking and I began to understand. You feared so greatly of losing her, you blew it from day one. You always felt you had to control your lives in order to keep her.

Did you never see it was that control that pushed her further and further away? No poor Dude, you didn’t, and you still don’t.

You’re reading my words, scoffing at me, calling me a pagan, cultist, liar. But I’m writing my words as she still talks to me, still wants me in her life, and still says “I love you Cyl” at least three times a day – TO ME. And I’ve never even met her yet.

Dude, love is not about making someone into what you think is best for them. It’s not about some stupid ideal of togetherness. You worked for ten years towards that and look at you now, you’re all alone. True Love, be it between spouses, family or friends is about loving all of the person.

She’s witty and charming, bitchy and snotty, sarcastic and sweet, funny and brave, pretty and humble, caring and kind. She is alive with me Dude, because I wanted her to be and I sat back and basked in her; as she was. And I loved what I saw.

I told you Dude, you had to let go of all your ideals and let her be her. You could not do that. You never did that, and because of that, You NEVER had the real her. I feel so sorry for you. So very, deeply sorry for you – you truly have no idea of what you missed. You never knew her like I do. It’s your loss!

Now you call me a liar. A bad influence, objectionable… It didn’t surprise me that you’d bring me into this. We know how hard you’re working to prove me a liar…because if you do that, she will leave me, not be my friend and in turn go back to you. Dude it won’t happen. Read her letter to you, it’s on her blog.

I did not steal your wife. She was never, in her heart your wife as you’d have wanted her to be. No wife is truly of her husband if she hides from him. She hid from you. She didn’t with me. But I did not steal her away. How can I steal a wife you never really had?

As far as who is a liar? Dude drop it. I’m not the one telling my temple I am a Jew when my mother is not Jewish. Orthodox and Non alike agree, Jewish lineage passes only through matriarchal lines. Did you convert, no. Will you, who knows? If you do I wish you the best. But before you walk around claiming a heritage that by rabbinical courts is not yours, stop and think about the definition of lie.

Did you really think that you could call me a liar as you handed over 1300 pages of stolen IM’s and selectively forgot to tell everyone that you yourself sat for hours talking to me about the very same things? You spoke of your desire for two wives instead of one. You spoke of how you loved swinging sexual life. You even had me take some test which I failed miserably, proving to you once and for all – Nope I am not a swinger. I can recall you telling me how you knew you screwed up, how you had to fix it. And how I tried to tell you that you can’t fix her emotions – she has to do that.

Aww Dude, you used to get online and ask why she talked and laughed and had a good time with me and not you. I’ll tell you what I think. If it makes you angry or hurt, then I am right.

You have no sense of self identity. You hide behind the past of your father, who was a good man. You hide behind a job that has virtually eluded you due to the nature of the business. You hide behind the fact that other women may not like your body. You tried so hard to be something – anything. Smart, powerful, witty, sexy, alluring, charming, brilliant…..you tried to be those things.

You never were. Not to me, and judging by her letter to you and by the friends I have spoken with that once visited you both, you never were.

You hate me and I know this. If you want to hate me, be my guest. I don’t hate you. I pity you. I pity your sad display of power as you allege bogus things and try to make us look bad. People are actually laughing at you Dude. Courts even. STOP. Don’t do this to yourself. Accept that she doesn’t love you. Let her go. Start being real instead of all the fake, bravado manliness you try to exude. Maybe then people will like you. Maybe then love, real love will find you.

I hope so Dude. Every one deserves to be loved.

Once, long ago as we spoke of the man and woman we love, you told me you pitied my man and me. You then bragged of Ten Years of Marriage, which we all now know was unhappy. You laughed at my few years of Marriage. You said you pitied our love, you pitied me.

I’ve been married three years now. We’ve been intrinsically in each other’s life for over 24. And we never tried to change the other, or make our love into something it was not. We’re still together – and even stronger. AND now, your future ex-wife is an adopted member of Our family.

Who Pities Who Now? You poor thing….

Technorati Tags: Her Ex I did not Steal Her Let It Go

February 15th, 2006 by C.A. Dubois

» Horror «

I always forget to close the damn blinds when I am running naked or half dressed through the house. I never did have much modesty. I’m not an exhibitionist either. I just forget that others might even look my direction. If they see me naked – life goes on.

I didn’t close the blinds this evening before I began getting ready to go out to eat. Tim, Jo and Tammy called and wanted to go out to dinner. That’s why I was going through the place with just my bra and jeans on.

The blinds were cracked open. I glanced outside like I always do. I barely noticed the SUV as it pulled in. If I hadn’t caught a glimpse of white, I may not have given it a second look. I did notice the flash of white. I did give it a second look.

They hadn’t gotten out of the SUV yet. It was parked in front of the apartment I’m at. Inside the SUV three United States Marines could be seen gathering their covers. It was the movement of one of those covers that caught my eye. My jaw locked in place and I could no longer swallow.

My eyes had to be wrong. He just called me this morning.

I held my breath and forced myself to focus. Three United States Marines in dress uniforms got out of that SUV. As soon as they shut the SUV doors, they placed their covers on their heads. Now they were officially uniformed. They looked at my apartment door.

My eyes had to be wrong. He just called me this morning.

My heart suddenly clenched with physical pain as I threw myself to the side of the window. My bare back slammed into the wall. The light switches dug into my flesh. My eyes slammed shut as my fingers desperately tried to grip the wall for support. I couldn’t breathe. Abject terror flooded my veins as I heard their voices beyond my door.

My eyes had to be wrong. He just called me this morning.

I didn’t know tears squeezed through my closed eyelids until I felt them stinging as they rolled onto my lip, where my teeth now cut through my own flesh. DAMNIT NO, they aren’t coming here. My eyes had to be wrong. HE just called me this morning.

Using the last bit of strength I had, I leaned carefully to the edge of the blinds. I had to force my eyes to open. I heard myself gasp audibly as I saw the three United States Marines form together after adjusting their uniforms. Then they started to walk the fifteen feet to my door. I slammed myself back against the wall. My eyes squeezed tightly shut. If they couldn’t find me, they couldn’t tell me right?

Damnit No – My eyes HAD to be wrong. He JUST called me this morning.

I heard one of them grasp the screen door handle. My eyes flew wide open. Agony seeped through my body. They were coming in. They were going to tell me what could not be true. I looked to my right, at the steel door handle. Lock it, my mind screamed. But my hand, it would not move. As time slowed, I heard the familiar sound of the screen door opening. My mind repeatedly ordered me to lock the door. Lock the damn door Cyl. Don’t open it. Don’t let them in.

DAMNIT NO – my eyes had to be WRONG. He just called ME this morning.

I was still staring at the door knob, willing my hand to reach over and flick the lock when the knock of death happened. It was loud. It was hollow and metallic sounding. It rang through the apartment, announcing what I simply could not accept. In the silence that followed the five loud raps on the door, I felt my life seeping from my veins. I heard it when my teeth cut through the flesh of my bottom lip. The snap of my breaking flesh echoed through the silence that followed their knock. As the warm stream of blood trickled down my chin all I could think was how he just called me THIS MORNING.

And eerie blackness started to creep upon me. I wanted to give myself to it, but they knocked again. This knock was louder, more insistent. From somewhere in my memory I heard his last words to me, “Stay Strong Peach, I love you.”

I turned my eyes upwards. “Stay strong”, that is what he asked of me. I had to do it – for him. Somehow, as I gasped for air, I felt my hand violently tremble as it crept along the wall towards the doorknob. I fought off the blackness. I struggled against the blinding pain in my heart and I stood up on my own two feet again.

Bile rose in the back of my constricted throat as I turned and squared my shoulders. I stepped to the door as my hand grasped the door knob and turned it. The last thing I saw with my eyes before the door was opened was the flashing glint from the diamonds on my wedding rings. Then as quickly as they shimmered beautifully, they were gone, hidden behind the open door.

In front of me stood three United States Marines. One held the screen door open. One had his hand up because he was going to knock again. One stood nearly at attention. For a moment my eyes locked on the Marine with the raised fist. Didn’t he know David just called me this morning?

“Mrs. Sutterland?” He asked hesitantly.

Suddenly I could not be inside. As I whimpered, “He just called me this morning” I stepped out my door. I never felt the cold snow on my bare feet. I never felt the cold glass of my screen door bumping into my bare skin. As I stepped forward trying to find air to breath, I needed to look into their eyes. I needed to see something in them. The Marines backed up. One tripped over the concrete parking block. I kept pushing forward, off the porch and out into the gravel driveway.

My mouth would open, but no words could come out. I could barely hear it when the Marine directly in front of me said “Ma’am”. My feet never felt the sharp gravel beneath them. My heart was clenched in a type of pain I never knew existed. The bile in my throat was being replaced with the tell tale signs of vomit.

I almost dropped to my knees. “No…..He just called me this morning damnit…”

I don’t recall what happened after begging those words to the sky. One second I was staring into the cloudy grey sky of winter, trying to comprehend what their presence meant, and the next minute I am standing on the side of the road my apartment is on. Right next to me is Tim. He has his hand on my back as he struggles to get his coat off. I can see Tammy and Jo getting out of the car. I can hear their voices but I can’t make out their words.

I don’t know where I am, except that I am on the side of the road, being pushed carefully into a car. Tim is right with me; Tim- his son; his flesh and blood. The tears get worse. I can’t help but whimper, “He just called me this morning…” but my voice sounds funny – faraway. Why am I shaking so violently, I’m not cold.

I can’t focus on anything really. I can hear Tammy, but her words, they made no sense. I could not answer the questions. I just needed to walk but now I was trapped in a car – why?

The car stops and Tim is suddenly by my side. He is trying to help me out. My feet hit the gravel as I step out. Now I am cold. So cold. Deathly, violently cold. Then I see it, the SUV. Next to it, the Marines – Three of them – in dress uniforms. This time, Tammy and Jo are with them. I watch their mouths move. It’s killing me. I am going to die.

This can’t be happening – HE just called me this morning. But it is happening. Tim is trying to keep my on my feet. Jo races over to him. She is screaming something at him. I look up at his eyes. I wanna see his daddy die in his eyes. I have to watch that and I don’t know why.

For a split second Tim’s face falls. He looks to me. His eyes fill with tears. He looks over his shoulder to the three Marines in dress Uniforms. They nod. Tim snaps his eyes back to mine. “OH GOD Mom….No….” he screams.

I feel my legs begin to give out just as Tim begins shaking me. His strong hands are on both of my upper arms. “MOM…..MOM…..” he is screaming. I can’t help him. I can’t save him from this. I can’t save myself….Oh Fucking god….he just called me this morning damnit.

“MOM….listen to me,” Tim screams as he grows more agitated. “Dad’s not dead MOM….they’re my recruiters. MOM…..MOM….”

I start sinking to the gravel beneath my feet. I feel the dirt on my hands. Dirt. They bury people in dirt. Oh help me…somebody….anybody…

Tim yanks me up. Suddenly Jo is screaming and slapping my face. “MOM…” they keep screaming. From somewhere deep inside the pit of my stomach, the retching starts. I try to control it but I am helpless. Just when I think I am going to vomit on Tim, Tammy’s hand connects with the side of my face so hard that my head almost spins.

All at once she is nose to nose with me. Her piercing scream’s finally seep into my brain. “DAD IS NOT DEAD MOM. YOU ARE WRONG. THEY ARE HERE FOR TIM.”

I choke for air as my eyes meet hers. “David” I whimper

“He’s NOT DEAD. It’s a mistake Mom, Listen to me.”

He’s. Not. Dead.

My legs give away. I land on the ground. My mind keeps tossing those words around. Suddenly the Marine who knocked, the one who called me Mrs. Sutterland is by my side. I only half hear his explanation. He is Tim’s recruiter. He is not here to tell me my husband is dead.

David is not dead. Over and over people say those words. Over and over I try to comprehend what they are saying. At some point it hits me, it sinks in. David is not dead.

That’s when I began puking. I have never, in my life puked my guts up until this evening. In the gravel driveway of these apartments, in my bra and jeans, on my hands and knees, I puked so long, and so hard that I vomited blood. I could not control it. It just happened.

It was a long night tonight. They finally forced me to go to bed. I tried to sleep. I was almost drifting off when suddenly it hit me.

If I thought my experience tonight was awful, I was an idiot. The true horror of tonight is not in what I went through by mistake, it is in suddenly realizing that for other families of our service men and women, there won’t be any slaps to the face or any screams of, “There was a mistake – he/she is not dead.”

That is horror.