As rare as a diamond, for what was not.
After everything I tried, I failed to sleep with her.
Looking over my medical records, she collected hand written notes from our weekly meetings. Wiping aside her dark brunette cut shoulder length hair, she adjusted her glasses, and crossed her arms covered with tattoos hidden under her blouse. The beautiful artwork spread all over her shoulders down her back wrapped around her thin frame.
To read more, click here…The Only Exception.
Duty and Loyalty
Honesty & Clarity
Polite Courtesy
Compassion
Complete Sincerity
Heroic Courage
Honor & Justice
To fully understand the meaning and purpose of this blog, you must understand warriors, true, genuine warriors. The culture and mindset of modern-day military special operations and intelligence set in unspoken tradition, standards and thinking handed down from generation to generation, across borders from warriors to warriors all over the world. In this small and very private community, a silent code shares dictating behaviors and expectations, internally consistent values and beliefs. Known for fierce independence and autonomy, threaded throughout devotion to duty, actions and behavior prove physical strength and mental resilience, intelligence, discipline, fearlessness, self-sacrifice, loyalty and honor to the death. To learn more, read Silent Code.
Related articles
Late October, leaves fallen. Private burdens, too distracted to grieve
Never let go
She is on my mind.
This woman simply won’t allow me to break through her resistance. No matter how hard I try, my words have failed. Coming across pathetic, I’m unable to get her attention. If only she took risk.
Damn…I want to ride the bike again with Jojo. Time with her was brief yet simple, not a care in the world… just the wind in our face and roads leading nowhere. We were just alone yet together, how I want the bike and Jojo again.
Blue skies ocean’s side sharing unforeseen.
Led on journeys afar… not ready to stop.
Didn’t believe, moved on now forgotten…searching for a sign.
Harley ride, warm Florida nights, wind in our face, silent smiles.
Blue jeans, black shirt, tanned skin, arms wrapped around pressed close.
Dark skies, stars shine white moon on high, Spectre flies by.
Bright white head light, pine trees rise in the distant.
Panhandle asphalt, parallel ocean flowed deeper into night.
Warrior life no longer a threat, more at ease I became.
Becoming closer wanting our time to be true, we’ve fallen… too far behind.
How else do I say this?
Give me the fucking woman!
She is all I ask for. Nothing else, no other demands. Not just any woman, but that woman. Her. The fucking girl who did it all to me. I’m after who she is, what she means and what she gave me. This woman wounded me nearly compromising my manhood where I beg for more of her. What does a good man have to do to get a good woman? For God’s sake, I’m a man. Patient. Resilient. Focused. Driven. Frustrated left clueless, I’m a fucking man without the fucking woman. Simple as that. Give up the resistance and come to me, life will change for the good forever. She is all I ask for.
1st collector for Linkin Park: When They Come For Me
“Yeah, I’m not a pattern to be followed, the pill I’m on is a tough one to swallow. I’m not a criminal not a role model, not a born leader I’m a tough act to follow. I am not a fortune of fame or the same person telling you to forfeit the game. I came in the ring like a dog on a chain and found out the underbelly is sicker then it seems. And it seems ugly but it can get worse. There’s even a blueprint, it’s a gift and a curse. Once you got a theory of how the thing works, everybody wants the next thing to be just like the first. And I’m not a robot I’m not a monkey I will not dance even if the beat is funky. Opposite of lazy, far from a punk, not the type to quit. Ya all better start talkin try to catch up mother fuckers!” Linkin Park, 2010
Long brunette, smooth tanned, black shirt, boots and your finger tips lit the world.
Harley together, days and nights, alive again.
I fell in love.
Every bridge since burned. Storms.
Beauty is the quality present in a thing or person giving intense pleasure or deep satisfaction to the mind, whether arising from sensory manifestations (as shape, color, sound, etc.), a meaningful design or pattern. Beauty’s definition can apply to art or most associated with a woman even life. What is beautiful to one person is not to the other.
The sweet smell of her perfume. Her neckline leading to her shoulders, her profile or the way she carries herself. Her femininity. Her eyes, their color, shape. How she cares for the details watching her carefully address her eye lashes and brows. How she takes forever to apply her make up every morning. The way she bends her hands at her wrist. When she admires her own jewelry, a purse, hat or the most favorite to women of all ages, their shoes. Her laughter when it may not have been funny. Her love of gossip, the taste of a dessert, skinny jeans and short shorts to surprise flowers making her friends jealous. Two hour hair cuts. Failure to understand or her love of sports. How she loves romantic films, a love story, song or dramatic TV even plays at the local theater. Wearing glasses from time to time. to her spring dress and how her long legs look amazing every time.
Her character and the rare things that upset her. How success motivate her efforts. School work, house work, on the job, in the yard even rubbing elbows with the best. Her love of Ford Mustangs and motorcycles. How she dresses for our rides on the Harley. Her courage for learning how to ride the Harley and her radiating spirit of freedom. Steadfast strength in times of adversity, yet her vulnerability. Love of family and adoration of friends. Her ankles and painted toes. The color and vitality of her skin. What she hides to later be discovered unexpectedly. The ring I want on her finger. Long phone calls, texts, blood-red painted finger nails, lipstick and a glass of wine. Her secret love and obsession for chocolate. How she brushes her hair back over her ears whether to catch my attention or to see what is in front of her. How she holds a baby on her hip just right yet manages life all around her. Despite a million responsibilities, she still manages to paint the walls in renovation of the house. Her firmness and strength defending the family.
Her taste of food and amazing ability to make anything you can imagine. Or how she makes the simplest food seem like gourmet. A night on the town, a restaurant, or together at home on the couch. Her ability to speak the language and listen to adolescents and the smallest child to the baby. The mother in her. Loyalty, patience and endurance. Her tears when she silently wants to cry. The lover in her and making love as good as the first time. Her patience, intelligence and strength. Her encouragement when the chips are down. How she smiles with energy. Her humor. Silence with her eyes closed leading me home. The feeling of her slightest breath against my skin. Her beauty.
Not the first love lost.
First one loved.
First thing thought is last thing lost.
Last one loved
When alone I feel nothing. With Jojo, I feel life all around me.
With Jojo I felt the greatest, she brought the best in me.
Jojo felt like taking life by the horns and going for the ride of my life.
Riding for hours at a time with her holding on is like no other. Being 14 years older and going nowhere good, steering the Softail Deuce in and out of traffic or down some backwoods path leading back to the shoreline, I was the one in control.
She was too young for me or herself.
Didn’t she want me to?
Memories at night have the speedometer highlighted in orange with the needle pushing past seventy.
As Jojo held me tight, with feet floating in the air on the foot-pegs, the “V” twin-engine hummed like a fine oiled machine between my legs. Within the piercing bright white headlight, the world would approach as we made our way to no where in particular. With asphalt passing beneath our feet, we were just with each other. All night long into the early morning, riding. The past is not what I want. Not even the same motorcycle. What I want is for the light in her not to burn out.
Tell me she will respond wanting me again.
It’s been eight years since I last saw her. A year and half since we last exchanged emails. Every month an email or two, even a letter sent, never receiving a response. Refusing to quit, efforts at communicating are tireless where only hope she will respond. Faith, one of these days she will change her mind saying how well she is doing and how she will try once again.
After all this time, not a day has passed without a thought about her. She’s in thoughts when I lay to sleep throughout my dreams and when I first wake. Everywhere, her images carried through the worst of times and best of moments. She’s not a fleeting thought. The opposite. Jojo has become seared within the mind leaving a deep image guiding this course.
Needing to find her again. Everyday, simply want to hear her voice, see her eyes even receive a response telling me she hasn’t forgotten
.
This personal journey has been long even exhausting. Repeatedly questioned myself. At the end of the day, no matter how much time has passed, what people say or how much resistance is faced…the drive remains. She’s that important. She means that much.
This 2003 100th Anniversary Edition Harley Davidson Softail Deuce did it all. The very source of peace and so much conflict afterwards. My bike shared with Jojo for over nine months and 4,500 miles of riding together.
Day, night, morning or afternoon, in the surprise rain showers to blazing sun. By the Gulf Coast ocean front, to Sea Side, from Pensacola to Panama City and Destin, so many days and hours we shared on this bike. From the last ride I shared with Jojo, I sold this bike and never rode a motorcycle again. Call it grieving, call it what you want. Without this bike, Jojo and I never would have learned about each other the way we did.
I’m the same, I’m the same, I’m the same, what do you want me to be. I’m breathing in this silence like never before. Foo Fighters 2011
Separate ways with changes, no longer recognized.
One more ride is all. Sweet sounds, images alive, the simple feel.
Not alone, wander yet miss you. Want you for you.
Don’t be lost in the past, for you won’t see…0nly curiosity.
Fear not, I’ve become…that good man.
Prepare to Cross Over
One simple dance be shared. Gracefully time slows.
In these eyes dreamt, genuine…beauty captured.
Back and forth, held close rhythmic breaths, where else be in awe.
No matter what becomes. Here, I will be.
Prepare To Cross Over
“And this land, means less and less to me without you, breathing through it’s trees.”
Mumford & Son’s
To get you meant, only one thing stood between…life.
Failing Little Man, meant we would have failed.
Failure in this life, was, is and will never be an option.
What once a possibility can still be…. Everything else follows simply remains …life.
Prepare to Crossover
“Tell me where was my fault…in loving you with my whole heart?”
“Lead me to the truth, and I will follow you with my whole life.”
Growing old without Jojo and Little Man is disturbing. Time doesn’t seem the same and life isn’t the best without them. The sun does not set or rise. What was beautiful before is a passing thought today. What I valued before has little to no meaning. Without them, the day doesn’t arrive new and the night doesn’t come soon enough. Watching how fast these past eight years have passed concerns me. Why do lessons learned have to be so costly? Are all these challenges meant for a purpose where so many losses and failures happen for a reason? I ask these questions because from the very start, when forced to make a choice eight years ago, I chose to pursue a good life with Little Man and Jojo, finally new warrior responsibilities. After all that I failed at, I’ve come to believe that the unhealthy thinking I may have been pursuing the next warrior life. Fact is how I couldn’t have all three. Little Man, Jojo and that life.
Today, I seriously look at life different, but I don’t. To read more, please click this link: Spitting Teeth
I did everything I could to sleep with her.
She looked over the records where her notes collected over time from our weekly meetings. Dark brunette cut shoulder length, glasses, with tattoos hidden under her blouse. The artwork spread all over her shoulders, and down her back wrapped around her thin frame. She was strong-willed with a mind like a steel trap. It was the details she craved. With severe back problems from childhood, she pushed through her hidden pain. Every month she took injections to cut the pain, only once a month would she be forced to rely on a cane. Younger than myself, I could never understand how something so irritating could happen so soon to a woman.
Posted on the walls behind her were diplomas for a Bachelors and Masters degree in social work and medical policy, a Molly Pitcher award for leading military wives at Ft. Bliss, Texas. It wasn’t only how cute she was; some of it was her intelligence, most of it was how she rebelled against the mainstream. She was a pistol, and no one fucked with her. Being the lowest pay grade on the scale, she didn’t have high-profile responsibilities.
To read more, click on this link….The Only Exception.
For her, here is Paramore’s “The only exception.” Enjoy.
Adults can manage what life throws at us and will. Children new to the experiences of extreme losses, deal real-time. Few things if any overwhelm parents more than the children. One repeated lesson I’ve learned is how our children are resilient. What was daunting as a child is forgotten as a teenager, yet it never fails to stay seared deep in the minds of the parents.
My son, waited for me to leave the military and return home. He was seven years old the day I arrived. He jumped in my arms shrieking with joy and shared all the plans he had for us. To read more, please click this link: Let me fall
I can’t do the talk. I can’t do a love song like the way it was meant to be. I can’t do everything but I’ll do anything for you. All I do is miss you and the way we used to be. All I do is kiss you through the bars of a rhyme. (Dire Straits)
Jojo was a good strong woman then, she’s only better now. Only once did I watch her cry. Then a second time. A third time too many. The first was not because of me. The others were. I just don’t understand why. Was it when I approached her? Did I do it wrong or was I wrong? Where did I fuck it all up? We didn’t have an argument or yell at each other. It was time pulling us apart from each other. To the point we didn’t say a word.
This is the way I understand things. Just tell me I’m not off in my own mind creating this sense of drive for each other. I felt it. I felt all of it and more and wanted more of it.
On the final night I spent all night writing my last words to Jojo. I left her behind a message telling her not to give up on me. What I couldn’t say to her face, I was forced to write in that letter. It was everything I simply couldn’t say. Telling her that no matter how long it takes to not once ever quit. As I wrote that note, I saw that approaching storm on the damned horizon. I was fucked from the beginning. No matter what happened, I wanted her to know that I had to leave. When I did, when the timing was better, I would find her again. What I could not tell her was how I had to first end the failed marriage I had with her good friend. Little Man’s mother. At no time did Jojo ask me to do anything like that. It was me. All me. At the time of that note, I made my choice to find Jojo again. The pursuit just wasn’t the right time.
The pursuit for Jojo continued through emails after emails month after month. It appeared after each email, I only got worse. Then it became a year, and another year. Jail, hospital after another, six months here, a few there. Before I knew it six, seven and now eight years have passed me by. My son grew older, so did Jojo and myself. However we all grew years apart. The two most important things in my life could not be brought together with me.
After experiencing Jojo the way I did, I wanted to give the same thing back to her. I wanted and still want to share things with her where life is mutual. Where we both give and take from each other without saying a word.
Not a “woah be me” song. Just a great song by a band that broke punk into mainstream music. I think you will relate to the lyrics and enjoy this song. When I say they broke punk into popular music, I’m not referring to punk who stayed punk or punk who started punk. By no means is this considered a punk song. Green Day just originated as punk. Regardless, Green Day, just like Metallica went viral if you would and took their genre to the public making it big leaving a great impact on music.
This song reminds me of what it’s like to have friends and family drop like flies while you pursue what you are after. Failing throws curve balls at you, yet, just before the dawn is the darkest hour. When life is so damned frustrating, just when it is about to expire, that is when it starts and the good comes around. Simply put, no matter what you never fucking quit.
To love is defiance. Go against the grain, opposite of the world around you. Call it being stuck or too focused, I don’t care. It is what it is. She’s on my mind everyday all day. These thoughts are motivating one moment, down right upsetting the next. Meaning I find myself wanting to talk to her again sharing with her the good things in life. Next, I’m realizing how far removed we are from each other, there appears no chance we will reconnect. Regardless, I choose to take this path. It is my decision to want to have feelings for Jojo. More than once I’ve tried to give up, naturally within myself is something that refuses to quit.
Knowing she is not married yet is nothing less than inspiring. There is a chance. A chance for anything in this world. Why so many people have gone off and pursued things in this world that were impossible to others. I knew from the beginning it would be next to impossible to retrieve a new relationship with Jojo. The odds were stacked against me. Had I chosen to stay with her, she would have witnessed me as a married man try to start a life with her. Later, in the worst of times with Jojo, she would have seen me as less of a man lacking loyalty. The effort would have failed.
Tell me not to want her. Tell me to go away, to return to my home and start a new life. I will tell you in return to piss off and take the high road. My intent was to recover remnants of a past life with a purpose to recover my son and build a better life with someone new. Someone who earned my trust and respect. Someone, at the end of the day, I simply fell for.
Had I…ah, the past doesn’t matter much. Only for the lessons learned will the past matter. That’s exactly what I’m trying to convey, is how if I had done anything different, I would have compromised myself and everything I believed in. Going after my son first is, was and will always be the right thing. Had I not done that, I would not be here typing. Instead, I would be dust dissolved in some far off waters or found crumbling in mud within some hidden dump. If a pistol to the temple or dextromethrophane to the kidney did not take me, the great man above would have found a way.
All I can relate her to is … beauty. Yes, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. When you experience Jojo, you will certainly feel the same way. You want to be a part of her and share something with her. She is dynamic, alive and a giving woman who carries herself with confidence. Being so attractive, she’s confidently able to walk everywhere with her head held high.
This woman is that impressive…she would endure rides on the bike for over 12 hours. Not complaining or whining wanting to go home or stop. She wanted to live life to the fullest. To the point, I taught her how to ride the Harley on her own. Watching her learn was amusing and fun. She took control of the bike, let out a shriek scream and went with it. On that abandoned runway, she commanded that 600lb bike and took off pushing through the gears where the transmission begged to be shifted higher and higher.
For now, rarely when I look up do I see women who capture my attention and set off the internal fire of attraction. If they are attractive, then they lack personality, even intelligence and humor. Or, too dramatic, whine even judge others.
I don’t know, they simply are not this woman. The woman I”ve chosen to love, respect and pursue.
There is a reason Eminem’s video “Space Bound” has over 42 million views on YouTube. Caution: If you do not support strong language, violence and the “F” word. Do not listen to this video.
Despite what he writes, I’m still putting Jojo’s name as a tag. What he captures in terms of pain and a sense of urgency about his love of a woman put’s Jojo in a personal category. How intense Eminem gets in this song can describe what it feels like with Jojos. A fact of reality of spending time with Jojo. She’s that impressive and important.
Listen carefully to this song “Space bound” to see what Eminem really means. Keep in mind, where Eminem leads you, does he mean it, or is he communicating something else? Verbally, he spins off words and phrases that many will squirm in discomfort. The strong language in his songs are meant for adults, not kids. However, is he speaking the truth? Don’t let the language stop you. I suggest if you challenge yourself to explore and analyze this video. Take time to see Eminem’s meaning. Ask yourself, “what is he trying to say?”
Eminem, from my family’s home town, represents our city and state of Michigan. Eminem is the Ambassador of Michigan’s “Motown” music community. For almost 20 years, he’s become Motown‘s leader of their new generation. What’s important about Eminem is how he’s a dedicated father of a daughter. He’s passionate about being a father. Eminem has also struggled with being raised in an abusive household, finally, his marriage with his ex-wife was explosive. Explaining the source of his lyrics.
Whatever the reason, he struggled with a serious drug abuse problem (Prescription drugs). No different than most of America these days, he has since cleaned himself up recovering to produce his finest work to date. Hence, the title “Recovery” of this album. This MP3 is by far, Eminem’s finest work.
Dr. Dre and Eminem have created a splinter genre almost on their own. As a result of their joint work, Eminem has sold over 77 million records leading every band and singer in all genres. If I’m correct, I believe this is a record of all time. Even surpassing people and bands like Michael Jackson, Rolling Stones, etc. This record sets Eminem apart from any other artist cementing his credibility raising his work to a whole other level. This burst in performance is evident when listening to his lyrics. I don’t care how old or young you are (+16) people from all generations can relate to lost love. They may not admit it, but it comes down to one word. Passion.
In this video “Space bound“Eminem grabs a hold of the English language firing out words showing the resentment he feels from loving a woman and losing her. Dealing with lost love and infidelity. Listen to Space Bound and see if he captures human nature. To understand where he is coming from, see if you can relate and understand his point. After listening to Space Bound, ask yourself, did Eminem stir anything within you? Are you stunned, confused or even enlightened? Could you do what Eminem did with music and make listeners get emotional? Do you have those skills? I know I don’t.
Regardless, in Space Bound, his lyrics are meant to grab your attention, “verbally” shaking your skull leaving his point seared deep in your mind where you are like …”Oh, I get it, yeah, I know what he means, I’ve been there.”
How is one supposed to get a woman like this out of your mind. It’s impossible to walk away from Jojo. Let it go and move on in your life. You are 14 years older than her, she’s too young. Going after her will take you backwards. That’s what they all say. All I can do is raise my hand and flip the finger.
A song about my journey. The choice to walk away from his mother, falling in love with Jojo. The choice of my son.
Not once did I ever compromise loyalty. Without his mom, I’m ok. Without Jojo, I’m less of a man. With my son, I am the man
Returning to America alone from war in Kandahar, Afghanistan and Iraq found me home without a house and family welcoming me home. Six months remaining in the military. throughout the days and nights, I became resentful of everyone I had worked for. Angry for failing to take care of my family, both accepting responsibility yet blaming others, I became furious at my ex-wife for choosing to leave and putting me in a position I would have to decide on the mission or my family. Angry at her because our marriage was about to fall apart anyway. She took my son with her.
Choosing to get away, I spent my days and nights purposely avoiding work, riding my motorcycle for up to 12-16 hours at a time. I didn’t care, no one else cared.
Riding along the gulf coast of Florida, I met the new Jojo. By accident, unexpectedly, at 16, the new Jojo grew and matured while I was away to welcome me home. To be brief, over those six months we rode together everyday and night…
To read more, please click here: War, PTSD and Metallica Unforgiven 3.
In time, my search and hunt for Jojo may come to an end. What I must do is take care of myself. Next to Jojo, the bike was that source of peace of mind. Parked to sit alone, the bike is alive no matter day or night. Waiting and ridden full throttle cruising and relaxed. The hum of the engine sets the tone and pattern of the moment. A continuous rhythm felt throughout your entire body. Putting one at ease.
It’s time to find my bike again. Sold eight years ago soon after the last ride with Jojo, I’m now feeling the bike call me. Brilliant black with shiny silver like chrome threaded throughout the bike, once in my possession I’m ready. Until my son grows enough released and moved out on his own, on my motorcycle I take a journey or ride of my own. It’s here that I’m ready and willing to ride across the entire country. The bike leading me back to this woman until one day I return to my final home.
A man pursues his woman of choice until satisfied. Sometimes going through multiple partners, a hunter by trade, a man searches until he captures what he wants. Water, food, shelter and a woman. Not all in that order. He hunts for it all. Everything.
When it comes to a woman, any good man will look for a woman capturing one’s attention. For some it’s any woman. For others, searching for a specific woman. Much like a diamond, he looks for specifics like “cut, color, clarity and Carat weight.” In a woman he searches for standards. Criteria. Values. Lessons learned from the past decide who they will pursue and capture for the future.
Any good man raised well searches for what is most important in a woman. He searches for an attractive woman. That means a clean and healthy woman. Intelligent. Outgoing. Independent. Knows how to cook. Athletic maybe active with a thin to average frame. Humorous. Educated or skilled. Traits of a good mother (For my future children). Most importantly, determine whether she is a good lover. That, of all things is the most private most difficult trait to discover.
The standards are a blue print for what works best for this man. To get it right, he looks for something mutual lasting a lifetime. Ultimately, as with Jojo, the search for her takes so long, she gets better with time. She becomes a diamond in the rough.
My conflict is how Jojo once wanted me, yet now wants nothing to do with me. She introduced herself to me revealing who she is setting inside my mind a deep wish to want her in my life. Wanting to one day start a new life with her growing old together. Jojo met every standard and criteria I had set in my mind for women.
Due to my choices, forced to leave Jojo, I’ve carried hopes one day our paths would intersect again. Making all the right choices, I shouldn’t have saw this refusal of hers to communicate. Somewhere something went wrong, just don’t know where or what. Ever since, my criteria, values and standards haven’t been met yet. Without Jojo in my life, I care about no other woman. From this point on, to the end, I’m ready to never see her again and ride out this life alone.
How does Jojo have this impact on me? Watch this music video listen to lyrics. I want to switch the word “Sail” with “Ride” as if the two of us “riding” the Harley again. Listening to this song, you will see and agree I’m appearing pathetic, trying to get Jojo back to where we once were. All in hopes she will stop running away to turn around and open her eyes. I want her to see I’m in front of her. She refuses to respond. Can’t hang on begging longer, will ride life out alone no longer wanting love. Listen to lyrics…click on link David Gray – Sail Away.
Image via Wikipedia
Thinking of Jojo. “I’ve been talkin drunken gibberish…trying to get some explanation here…how did it ever come so far…”
I find myself day dreaming about the bike and Jojo. If I could have one moment with her and talk to Jojo, what I would say to her is…
“Not once have I quit on you. What felt like a lifetime…You are the one woman I cannot live without.”
“Jojo…I love you.”
Leaning forward-looking at her with her eyes still closed, placing my hands on either sides of her face. Looking more closely at her staring at her beauty the attraction fuels growing stronger as I approach her. With her lips partially closed, I feel her peaceful breath against my face as I lean into kiss her even embracing her.
Somewhere in southeast Afghanistan heading directly for Kandahar, it is nine weeks after 9/11/2001. America as a whole, all of its citizens and the world are still in disbelief from the surprise Al Qaeda attacks against the New York Twin Towers, the Pentagon and Pennsylvania. It is our country that tries to heal from the most horrific attacks on U.S. soil since the Japanese surprise attack on December 7th, 1941…60 years earlier. Now over 3,000 innocent people have been killed by Al Qaeda, a global Islamic terrorist organization led by Bin Laden and Al Zawahiri.
We are the first 200 Americans on the ground in Afghanistan following 9/11. All of us are trained and highly skilled. We’ve all trained and been hand-picked experiencing rigorous selection courses where 85% of those who try out, fail to succeed. Trained in advanced communications, I’m skilled as a SCUBA diver, Military Free fall and Static Line Parachutist. A parachute Jump Master. Dive Supervisor. Qualified in over ten assault rifles, pistols, heavy machine gun and sub-machine gun weapons. Capable of infiltrating in any helicopter, aircraft or assault vehicle and motorcycles. Trained in advanced navigation on foot, vehicle or animal. Specializing in air to ground tactics using aircraft, space and Cyber assets. I’m the integrator of the air war with battles on the ground.
The afternoon is hot and dry with piercing brilliant blue skies free of clouds. We have over a hundred vehicles formed in a “V” formation all moving forward heading towards the home of the Taliban. Kandahar. I’m in the backseat of a maroon Toyota Hilux pickup truck sitting behind the driver, Ken, a US Army Special Forces 18D Medic. I’m assigned to move with a US Army Special Forces 12 man “A” team. I’m their primary source for “air support” or aircraft for security. With a small silver hand-held “Garmin” Global Positioning System (GPS) receiver in one hand and an outdated survival map in the other, it seems I’m the only Air Force operator for several hundred miles.
Balancing an M-4 Assault rifle between my knees, my personal weapon from work I spray painted brown and tan despite the Air Forces regulations telling me no. My rifle has an ACOG scope, BE Meyers miniature infrared pointer also a 40mm grenade launcher mounted on the rail system attached to the stock. Feeling the weight of a load bearing vest over my shoulders and around my waist, I also carry a black Beretta 9mm pistol. With suppressors on both weapons, I’m carrying over 500 rounds of M-4 ammunition, 9mm rounds, 40 mm grenades and survival gear.
My unit has joined an American armada of forces from the Army, Navy, Air Force, Marine Corps and Coast Guard mobilizing and moved out all over the world. Allies from countries like Britain, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, Germany, Norway and Denmark have joined America. The Global War on Terror or GWOT has officially begun.
Silence does nothing but drive and motivate me. Searching day and night for a response. A sign.
Away too long, know me no more, or what I’ve become. Writing is all I have, with no response.
Only meant to find Little Man and myself. Wanting to be with you. To give you a reason to wait for me.
Look what I’ve overcome. After eight years endured much you don’t understand. The experience changed me, yet I’m the same man you met. Different yet better. Stronger today than when we were together. Fail to communicate. My actions and behavior speaks for itself.
Proven to be a good father to my son. I’ve recovered and created a new life. My son returns to me. The boy you care for. What do you want? Little man is back. Everything except you.
All I’m asking is to start from new.
Give me a chance to show what I’ve become. A reason to try again, new beginning is all I have.
