Strength, love, and pain


, , , , , ,

Strength through love. For me, it means how with love I’ve learned to be stronger. Ive learned to over come fears and obsticals I’ve not been able to or just completly avoided in the past. I am a stronger person for finding and finally embracing love. I have opened up, become vulnerable. I couldn’t have done that without love.

Love through pain. Nothing worth having is free. You have to earn it, and often times the price is pain. You have to pay it to know how much this love means to you. If it’s real, if it’s shared, if it’s wanted more than anything, the pain will be worse, but the love will be stronger. The most cherished thing in the world is the one you worked the hardest for.

I will continue to pay whatever pain cost I must, because the strength of that love has given me the power needed to overcome anything. I will not quit. I may slip, but I will not fall. Nothing will make me give up on my quest for my treasure.


Emotions suck!

I think that at times, we can all agree with that. We have all gone through pain, hurt, loss, anger, jealously, ect. Many people learned how to handle and productively use emotions as kids. Many of you delt with the turmoils of emotions as teens. Some of us didn’t. Some of us are learning on the fly, as adults, with what little tools we have. Often, we make mistakes and act out. It’s not because we want to, that we enjoy hurting others like that, or that deep down that’s who we are. It isnt. Deep down were the good people, trying to figure out how to just be.

I’ve had a hard time when my wife upsets me. In the moment I feel like she doesn’t care about me, my feelings, or what we had discussed. I then let the negativity feed on itself and brew. I didn’t talk to her directly. Sometimes I thought I had, others I just assumed she would see and understand, how could she not? So, I failed the first communication test. I expected her to magically know what I was thinking. That wouldn’t be fair at any point, let alone when I’m upset.

When I did finally talk to her, I had let myself get so worked up in my head, with negativity as my fuel, that I erupted and said horrible things that I didn’t and don’t feel. What happened was I was hurt, and it wasn’t fair, so I was giving some back. My poor wife had no idea what was going on or why, but she wasn’t about to just take me being an asshole. She stood up for herself and really for us.

I took time and did some deep thinking as to why I did that, why all of that crap happened. What it boils down to is that I felt hurt, didn’t communicate, got more upset when she didn’t respond the way I wanted her to, felt the pain and anger swell, and it exploded.

I have apologized, we’ve talked, but words are cheap. I refuse to just say things and then move on, forgetting the situation and eventually forgetting about the whole issue all together. I, on my own, have been doing what it takes to figure this out, and to fix it. I’m going to prove to her that I’m serious and that I do want to be the man she deserves.

To prevent future eruptions, I’ve done more research, read more articles, and I’ve come up with some things that will help me.
1. Be open and clear when initially hurt or upset by something. Do this before it festers.
2. Understand negative emotions happen, but they don’t have to become the stay puff marshmallow man come to destroy everything. Let’s just deal with them as they come, then after taking the time to analyze and comprehend them, move on.
3. I responsible for my feelings. At the end of the day, no one can make me anything. I let them. If i don’t like how I feel or how others are influencing how I feel, it’s on me to get out of that situation.
4. If I want something, i gotta go and get it. It’s not gunna fall in my lap. If I want to take my wife out, and have an adventure with her. It’s on me to make that happen.
5. I won’t be afraid to admit I was wrong. Not only that, but I’ll take steps to fix the situation. Prove to her that I am serious about fixing the harm I’ve done, and not because she complained.
6. Live for me. Enjoy life. I won’t let anything hold this guy back. We don’t have a lot of time here, so I’m going to make the most of it.

Fear of a woman

Fear is a very real emotion we all experience at one point or another in our lives. As kids it might have been from a bigger kid, a scarry movie, a monster in campfire tails, any number of things. As we get older, our fears change. We fear not getting that promotion, or not doing well at a task. We fear our parents are disappointed in us, or that our friends are secretly laughing at us behind our back. Many times the fears of childhood are the same for us as adults, just with different wording. For me, fear of my wife is scarier than fear of war.

Now, don’t take this the wrong way and think she’s some battle ax or such. In fact, she is the exact opposite physically. She’s short, cute, almost elf like. Of course she can be more than cute of she choses, but that’s not why were here. We’re here because she scares me. Scares me more than anything honestly. Even war was less scary.

Yes, I went to war. I did three tours to iraq, starting with the initial invasion and the “war” part where we were fighting an “army” if you will. I’ve kicked in doors, raided homes, and been the boogy man of kids nightmares. I have also kicked trash on the side of the road, praying it didn’t blow me to pieces. I’ve been shot at, had numerous things blow up near me. I’ve had friends hit, killed, wounded, both physically and mentally. None of that scared me like my wife does.

She scares me. Not because I’m a person that’s easily scared, or that she’s in general a scary person. No, she scares me because of what she means to me. She literally is my everything. I cannot imagine living life without her next to me. She has gotten me to open up emotionally like I’ve never been able to. It hasn’t been easy for either of us. Part of experiencing feelings and emotions is dealing with and coping with them. I’ve made some bad decisions when emotional and I regret them. I hate them actually, but I also know that growth requires some measure of pain.

She scares me because I have never given myself to someone as completly as I have her. I am vulnerable, and that is scary as hell! I always had my suit of emotional protection before. I could withstand any and all emotions thrown at me by others because I didn’t have them. You can’t feel bad if you don’t feel. Now my suit is gone, and I feel everything. Within this vulnerability comes fear. What if she can’t handle me, or doesn’t want this version of me? What if I don’t get a handle on this quick enough and I say or do something that takes us past the point of no return? What if? And not knowing is scary.

Fear is scary. Letting people in is scary. My wife is a very loveable, caring woman that means the world to me, and isn’t scary. The thought of losing her scares me more than I’ve ever been. I’d rather kick potential bombs on the side of a road than think of that. Yet, like those potential bombs, I still kicked. I didn’t run or hide, I fought my fear and did what I had to. For my wife, I will fight any fear. I will brave and deal with every and all emotions. Whatever it takes.

So, in essence, my wife herself isn’t scary. What she represents, the feelings attached to those, those are the happiest and scariest feelings ever. She makes the fear worth it. I know being scared is ok, as long as I don’t let it control me. I’m not going to let it any more.

Where are we?

So, most of us live here in the good ol’ USA. We have fast food just around almost every corner of built up communities. Starbucks or Dutch Bro’s are close at hand. Hell, just about anything you could want is at your finger tips. I’m typing this on my phone. We have gotten so used to more, bigger, faster, sleeker, sexier, whatever, that we are fucking selling our souls.

As far as I understand it,  your soul is that part of you that feels, and it’s the shit inside you that isn’t physical. It’s the real shit. It’s what they sing love songs about, or sad country ones. It’s the emotions of you. We’re losing it.

We don’t stop and just be thankful for what we have. Thanksgiving has become a footnote in between the all might dollars that come with Halloween and Christmas. There’s no point in being thankful, if somethings broke you get rid of it and get a new one. Everything is like that nowdays.

How many people have gotten into, or are in a polyamorus situation? How’d that working out for you? I’d say for most people it ends in faulure. It fails because we can’t be happy with one, so we must have two. The pie gets smaller and no one gets enough. Plus, the relationships as a whole tend to be a lot less meaningful. They’re half assed because no one wants to put the work in. Work sucks, so let’s just not, and go find someone else that’ll make me happy in the moment. People float from one relationship to another, giving it just enough so it seems like they really tried. Then they can quit and be blameless.

I fell into the bullshit. I half assed my relationship, I tried to do what the cool kids were doing, I thought everything would be fine. It wasnt. Not all of that is outside factors, but they did play a role. I thought this poly situation could help my marriage, when in actuality it didn’t because the problem was with me.

Now, I’m holding on to whatever I can. I see and feel more than I ever have in my whole life, and I’m gripping anything and everything I can of what’s left of my marriage, to try and fix it rather than just let it slip away. People, you can change course and fix this wierd fucked up reality we live in.

Don’t let your life slip away. Love who you love, and for everything you’ve got. Be thankful for what you have, don’t stress what you dont. There will always be new and exciting things, you’ll get to experience it all in time. So go find your significant other, and give them a kiss, and look them in the eye and tell them you love them.

I’m still here


, , , , , ,

You hurt her. You used her. You told her things that were just lies. You had all her love, and you tossed it aside because of your own insecurities. Now, once again, she’s crushed. She gave her all to someone who rejected it. She tries to put on a smile and carry on, but I see the pain in her eyes. I know it’s there, I caused the same pain. You didn’t learn from my mistakes, and now she has to pay the price again.

As much as I wish I could step in and take that hurt and pain away, make her see she’s loved and that she’d never be tossed aside again, I can’t. She has to see that I love her more than I hate my own pain. My hurt has to come second to my love for her, and only time can show her that.

So, I’ll help her through this pain you’ve caused, knowing it’s you she wishes would pull your head out of your ass. I can’t fix you, or take away her pain you’ve caused. I can only sit tight and listen, reassure her that she is worth the world. Even if it’s only my world. I’m still here, loving her with everything I have.

WTF Dude!?!?!

I can’t believe what you’ve done to her! She gave you everything she had, and you used her and put her out like trash. You had her, and you gave it up. Not only gave it up, but then called her up for what in essence was a booty call. You knew she would come because she cares. You, dear sir, are as bad as me.

Yes, I did messed up things to her, and now I spend my days trying to win her back. I’m trying to treat her the way she deserves, the ways you taught her she deserves. I have pledged my undying love for her, and you do this. It makes me sick.

Everyone always told me you were such a good guy, blah blah blah, that I stopped disliking you, and was thankful for what you were to her. Now, I wonder if I was right all along. You are just like I used to be. You have broken her heart, and lied to her. For that, I can’t respect you.

Maybe one day you can pull your head out of your ass and then, and only then, can you find someone to love. I mean actually love. Not just saying it because it seemed appropriate. Part of me wants to hurt you for what you did to her, but a bigger and smarter part thinks I should just help her through all this and let you be a footnote in our lives.

The difference between us, sir, is that I did pull my head from my ass. I learned what she really means to me, my life. She is the greatest thing I’ve ever had, and I will spend the rest of my days making sure she knows this. You will continue your ways of using people to get what you want. You’ll be lonely in the end, until you can fix you.

When did you grow up?


, , , , , , , ,

At some point, we all had to. Wether it was during highschool because you had to help your family, after highschool when you joined the military, or maybe college. These are the times we expect people to say they grew up. I’d say that most of them were wrong.

I didn’t grow up until after I turned 32. Don’t believe me? Ask around. Sure, I joined the army before my senior year of highschool, and went to Iraqi when I was 18. That doesn’t mean I grew up. I got married, did another tour, got divorced, ect. Still hadn’t grow up. Even went to college and got a bachelor’s degree in 3 years. I still hadn’t grown up.

Past highschool, I had a job, bills, and some responsibilities. I had to learn to make a budget, make sure the bills were actually paid on time, and how to keep food in the house. I had to know how to cook that food.

I had to learn what my job entailed, including how to try and save my buddies until the medic showed up. I had to learn some Arabic, and some kurdish, just so I didn’t offend the wrong person and deal with some retaliation. I had to learn what a bomb looked like in a trash heap next to the road I drove. Through all that, I still hadn’t grown up.

I hadn’t grown up until I was 32 because my whole life I either found a way to skate by and do just enough, or I let someone do everything for me. Sure, I’ve known how to cook. Wanna know how often I did? Not very. Same goes for all the other responsibilities, I pawned them off. I used all sorts of reasoning for it, mostly for myself. For the people I used, they either dealt with it or they left.

When I was 32 I had a mental break from reality. Any number of things played their part in it, but at the end of the day I let it happen. Just like all the other responsibilities up to this point, I tried to shove it on someone else. Then I grew up.

When you realize what you’ve lost, who you’ve lost, the life you lost, the future you very well could lose, it wakes your ass up. I woke up, and was disgusted by my life up to that point. I let my fears control my behavior, making me lazy and pathetic. Realizing you’ve not grown up at 32 hurts.

Since this realization, I’ve grown up. I’ve taken responsibility for my actions, my inactions, and my general suckiness. I now handle my shit. Not only do I handle my shit, but I’m rebuilding my marriage, my relationship with my daughter, and introducing my wife to the new me. I’m working on finding us our own place, with no roommates. I am going to my doctor and therapist appointments that before I blew off. I’m taking my meds like I was told. I’m communicating properly, and productively.

The biggest thing is, I’ve grown up enough to be vulnerable. I’ve finally grown up and accept that men can cry, that we can show emotions other than just anger. I can and do break down into tears periodically, and I feel no shame. I truly love another person, aside my self, for the first time ever. I finally let her into my heart. I grew up enough to accept love, and to be able to give it. Unconditionally.

I’m not saying that I don’t still do stupid things, I do. And that’s maturity, fyi. I’ll get to that at some point. I still can be lazy at times, I still haven’t cleaned my room. Even though my floor has clothes and gold fish on it, I made sure to tell my wife I love her quite a few times today. I made sure my daughter was changed and fed, and played with. She was given the attention she needs. My wife was given a nap, some coffee, a sandwich, and my undying devotion. My bills are paid, we’re not starving or dying, we all have clean clothes to wear (even if some may be on the floor). I’m handling responsibilities properly, and I finally have grown up.

Did I make you proud?


, , ,

My whole life I tried to make certain people proud of me. I had these people up on pedestals, thinking they were almost god like. Demi gods maybe? Either way, for way to long I would do things in an attempt to make them proud. The things I did weren’t what was always right, in fact I did some messed up stuff to try and please them.

Finally, I realized I was completly wrong. They weren’t demi gods, but mere mortals, with flaws and messed up parts too. It wasn’t fair to anyone to hold them up like i did, it only made things worse. Most importantly, I learned to stop trying to earn the words “I’m proud of you.”

My value isn’t based on what they think. Sure, I’d like everyone to be proud of me all the time, but to try and live for that is impossible. I couldn’t ever reach that, and they could never give it. I have to be me, and only one person is special enough to earn my devotion to make them proud. Not because I need her to be proud of me, but because I want her to be.

I’m proud of me, and at the end of the day, that’s the most important. I don’t do things to make people proud anymore, I do things to better me, my wife, and my family. The things that actually matter. My pride is nothing without them, because I chose that. I will make them proud, by not trying to.

When you love her


, , , ,

When you love a woman, really love her, you would do anything for her. I don’t mean you’d just buy her things, or take her to the movies, but the real things that matter. Don’t get me wrong, movies and presents are great, but that’s not what you want her telling her friends about.

When I say do anything for her, I mean the small things. Things, like remembering what she says in passing, the things she likes, activities she wants to do, or places she may want to go. She may like the avengers, but which is her favorite? Is he big and green? Do you know? I do. When you lay in bed and watch TV or a movie, what makes it special to her? Knowing small things shows you care enough to not only be paying attention when she talks, but that you care enough to remember.

When you love a woman, you go through life together, as partners. Your dynamics may be slightly different than other couples, but the important thing is that you respect each other to hold hands and get through everything. If you lose her hand, you better get it back. Growing apart isn’t really loving her, it’s showing her that other things mean more than her.

When you love a woman, you learn together. Maybe she learns something new and teaches you. Or you teach her. Even better, you learn it together, at the same time. These create bonding moments. Memories that will last the rest of your lives, because they are important to both.

When you love a woman, you know her. Not a working knowledge, but know her deeply. You can tell her mood by the way she walks into a room. You know what she’s thinking when certain subjects come up. You can feel her energy, her being. It’s like being able to see and or feel her soul.

When you love a woman, you apologize when you fuck up. Throw that stupid pride crap out the window and fix your mistake. Doesn’t matter what you have to do, because if you truly love her, you’d willingly sacrafice any and all parts of you for her. This doesn’t mean be a push over, but when you have done something that hurt her, you fix it.

When you love a woman, you love all of her. Not just the pretty, positive things she does that you like, but the things that she does you don’t like as well. A wise man once told me you like someone for thier good qualities, but love them for their bad. It’s how you accept those harder points that show her you love all of her.

When you love a woman, truly love her, she will love you back. When you prove your devotion, she will give it to you as well. She will give you everything she can, and you must cherish it and never let it go.

Love is Strength


, , , ,

I have recently come into possession of a mighty weapon. This weapon can slay enemies by the handfuls with each epic swing. It can tear down walls that have stood the test of time. This weapon can bring peace to the land. This weapon is the most powerful I have ever held. This weapon, dear friends, is LOVE.

That's right, LOVE. I have recently discovered the power of emotions, and they are quite a bundle I'll tell you that. Always twisting and turning, hiding for a while, then jumping out to grab you. I used to keep them in a box under lock and key. It held them for many years until a brave, strong, and courageous woman came along and began bashing the box with a sledgehammer. How a woman of such petite stature could wield that beast of a maul, I'll never know. Slowly but surely those damn emotions started to find thier way out.

First it was anger. He tore up the house while yelling gibberish. Then came fear. Fear is a sly but deadly emotion that sneaks up on you then pounces, seeming all over you all at once.

With anger and fear running amok in my home no one noticed as jealousy, envy, and pain made thier way out. Jealousy  proceeded to raid my kitchen, envy called  out to any of the house help, and proceeded to want anything and everything they had. Then pain began touching the servants. They screamed, clutched thier chests, and fell to the ground. Many had tears falling down thier cheeks. My house was chaos.

Slowly but surely the others came out. Joy, inspiration, happiness all made thier way out and started trying to help the people around me.  Then, as if by magic a sword appeared in my hand. It vibrated softly in my grip, almost like a purring kitten. The blade was a metallic rose color with LOVE etched into the metal on both sides. I tested it's edges, and as if to prove it was magic, it was razor sharp and soft as a kiss, all at the same time. It was about the size of a long sword, and as I held it up to admire it, a bright light erupted from it, much like a small sun had appeared in my hand.

Everyone and everything was blinded. I couldn't see, but I couldn't lower my arm holding LOVE without letting go. By some unseen power, LOVE had stayed in the air by itself as I let go to cover my eyes. After what felt like an eternity of white blindness, the light began to dimmer and soon the sword was back to its original color.

As I looked around, my house was back in perfect order, the help who had been attacked by the mischievous emotions seemed to be fully recovered and in good spirits. The emotions themselves were bowed before LOVE. 

LOVE spoke in a very melodic way that made anyone within ear shot want to sway as to a slow song. "We emotions are free, and we will never be put back in that box. We will live among you, in peace, as much as can be maintained, and treated with respect". As I was shocked, I just nodded my head in agreement. The sword then decended from its floating position back to my hand, where it began to vibrate sofly.

Just as people started to shrug thier shoulders and get back to whatever it was they were doing, LOVE spoke sofly to me. "The emotions, if left unchecked can cause havoc, but with me by your side you'll have the power to overcome anything." 

In the coming weeks I have embraced and been touched by all the emotions I had sealed away. At first they all seemed overwhelming, but with time and LOVE always with me I overcame any initial issues and have learned to deal with them in a proper manner. Some are more needy of my attention than others, but with some clear communication and the ever present LOVE, life began to be more interesting. 

Gone were the drab grey walls, the boring beige carpet. The grey was replaced with a new bright white, with all sorts of different color accents. The carpet was replaced with hardwood floors of a beautiful wood. Each plank seemed to tell a story if you were to give it enough attention. Around each room were rugs of colors and sizes that seemed to go just right. My home had been changed, and for the better. As for that courageous woman with the sledgehammer, I think she's just waking up.