military story

Diary of a Black Male: Entry #46

I met this girl at work a few of months back. I thought she was cute so I gave her my number, but I told her we would talk business. Her name is Melanie– short, brown skin– one of those delta sorority sisters who sounds mad country. She wanted to work on this piece with me– at least that’s what she made it seems like. She wanted to do a spoken word visual about growing up in poverty as black people. I thought she had a great vision. I let her know that it was a really good idea. I was kind of excited to be honest. She called me that same night to talked about it and everything sounded like a go.

We made arrangements to meet up to actually discuss this vision. We sat down and thought about different ways to portray the different ideas. We had gone through a lot in our short time on this earth. We came from different backgrounds, so she never saw the things that I saw. She told me I introduced her to a new world. She told me she liked that about me. I wasn’t sure if it was the compliment or not but at that moment I felt some real ass chemistry. Before you know it we started to share some personal thing about our life. She told me she appreciated how open and transparent I was. Things had got really deep.

Maybe a little too deep, I could tell it had gotten a little overwhelming so I asked if she wanted to go for a walk. She agreed and we went outside and just start walking. It felt great. I love nature. I love everything about it. It kind of helps me feel free. I could tell she felt a little better herself. Finally, we had a seat on the bench that was right outside this coffee shop. She told me that she was glad she ran into me when she did. She told me I seemed like a great guy and she could the two of us becoming really great friends. I agreed. I definitely saw that too.

I cannot lie. That shit made my dick tremble a little bit. Don’t ask me how or why– just know that it did. I made the suggestion to link up again some other time. I told her we would have fun and the next time we link up we didn’t have to talk about the heavy shit. After that we kind of said our goodbyes and went our separate ways. Later on that night she thanked me for listening to her. She told me she has always had so much to say but no one to really say it to. She told me that was the reason why she wrote– to say the things she couldn’t say to anyone else. Ironically, that was kind of the reason why I started to write. I used to write just to clear my mind. I wrote anything from poems to essays– outside of university work to journal entries.

The more she revealed about herself the stronger my attraction towards her became. Sometimes when she would speak I could just hear the passion in her voice. It was the sexiest thing ever. She made my dick tremble quite often and didn’t have to be talking about sex. Bruh, she told me a story about how she had to go off on her co worker– I swear I couldn’t help myself. That shit was sexy af. She just started going in and I could hear myself saying, “damn, I love you” I was thinking to myself, “this chick might be wifey.”

Over the span of couple months we had gotten really close. Sometimes when she came over she would spend then night. We had gotten really close. I felt like it was about that time to take our relationship to the next level. I felt like I could be myself with her and I felt that wholeheartedly. We had already gone on a number of dates. There was no reason why we weren’t already a couple. I had been thinking about it for weeks. I had even called my best friend to ask for his opinion. He gave me his blessings and that was all I needed. I trusted his word. He always had my best interest at heart.

That night I called her and asked her if she could meet me at the coffee shop. The coffee shop was the symbol of our relationship. It symbolized the pinnacle of our growth. It was apart of our history. We met there often to talk about our project ideas and to talk about life. That coffee shop meant a lot to our relationship and I wanted it to continue to be apart of us.

That night I told her to meet at the coffee shop so we could talk about this idea I had. It had been awhile since we actually sat down and talk about our ideas. My ideas often came to me while I was laying in bed. I would usually write them down before I go to sleep. We called each other every night before bed. I guess that’s why I’ve been thinking about her so much lately. I didn’t think about much of anything at night other than spending time with her. I guess you can tell how much I really liked her.

She called me to let me know she was close. I had already ordered some tea and sat on the outside. Before she got off the phone she told me that she had something to tell me. I had no idea what she had to say but it made me nervous. I was already been kind of nervous to finally ask her out despite being so close but it added to my anxieties. All types of things started to go through my head. I called my boy back real quick to calm my nerves but as soon as he answered the phone I could see Melanie pulling up.

I told him I’ll call him back and greeted Melanie. She smiled and gave me hug as usual. Everything seemed to be fine and my nerves seemed to have calm down. She asked me about the ideas I had. I kind of wanted to know what she had to say to me before I got into why I asked her to come out. I just told her away. I told her about a few project ideas for this short film I wanted to do. I wanted to document black hair and what our hair means to our identity. I wanted to focus on standard of beauty and natural hair for both men and women. There were some other things I wanted to discuss but I was too anxious to find out what she wanted to say to me.

She started to mention the weather and asked me if I wanted to go for a walk. She knew I loved shit like that. I thought it was going to have one of those romantic moments you read about in story books. After awhile my anxiety dissipated and I was actually feeling pretty good about everything. While we were walking she grabbed and held my hand. She told me that she really like me and maybe even loved me. I was excited and a little relieved but I also had butterflies in my stomach. I could only smile despite the discomfort.

She mentioned her ex. She told me she wanted to tell me something and it had to do with him. I could feel myself getting sick to my stomach. My anxieties were going through the roof at this point. I stopped walking. I stood there and waited for her say something disappointing. I just had this feeling in the pit of my stomach that told me I wasn’t going to like what she had to say. Then she looked over to me and said “my ex is actually my husband” I just looked at her in disbelief. Apparently they hadn’t gotten a divorce but they were just separated– legally at least.

He had been overseas for six months on a mission. She said that he was coming back and that he was going to kick her out the house they had together. She told me they had some type of agreement but that didn’t matter to. She lied to me. She was never really honest with me. This entire time I thought I had really found someone to me. I thought I finally found someone. There was not enough unconditional love that would make me forgive her so easily. I couldn’t believe I let this happen to me.

She had a whole ass husband. A whole ass military nigga. I got so sick that I actually puked. I had to leave. I had to get away from the situation. I didn’t know what else to do. She could have told me about this. I don’t know why she hadn’t told me this to behind with. There had been so many opportunities for her to tell me about this but she waited until the moment I thought she couldn’t do any wrong.

She told me that she had more to say but I couldn’t take it. I didn’t want to hear it. I just went home. I didn’t even call my boy. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. She had been hitting me up that entire night but I refused to answer. I just put on some Jazz music and internalized everything gotdamn thing that has ever happened in my entire life up until that point until I just fell asleep of exhaustion.

I felt so empty and incomplete but I also had this heaviness about myself. I didn’t want to talk to her but I knew I wouldn’t feel better until I found out what else she had to say. I shut myself out from the world for a couple days. I just hadn’t been feeling like myself. I hadn’t returned any of her calls and to be honest it was eating me alive. I needed something to help me take my mind off of Melanie. I thought if I invited another woman over that she would help me take my mind off of things. I thought she would make me feel good– make me feel like myself again.

I called Jasmine. We used to mess around from time to time. I hadn’t seen her in awhile. I ask her if she wanted drop after she got home from work. That usually meant she would come through for sex. I thought that was something I needed but when she got there I just wasn’t feeling it. I could barely function let alone entertain a woman while the entire time I was thinking about someone else. I didn’t make me feel any better. I actually felt worse. I thought she would be fun. I thought she would’ve brought me out of that shitty mood I was in but all she really wanted to do was to have sex. I guess I got what I was asking for.

I had been too detached to do anything remotely close to sex and Jasmine didn’t like it. She had gotten really upset so I just asked her to leave. While escorting her out Melanie pulled up.

Don't be that guy

Don’t be that guy at the range, you know the one, I call him the Encyclopedia of False Shit.

So no shit there I was at the range today, just finger blasting my lady at the 200 yard lane, when this doomsday prepper type guy with full plates, drop leg harnesses (yes - two of them), full battle belt and combat shirt comes up to me. Already I know this guy gargles wieners, I mean come on man this is neither a combat zone nor a dynamic range, I’m just laying here trying to zero.
Anyways, he comes up, grabs my rifle (justified homicide right?) and proceeds to rattle off his opinions why my groups aren’t tight enough. Mind you, I haven’t touched this rifle in over nine months, so of course my zero is screwed. As if that wasn’t bad enough, he then lays down next to me and tries to teach me how to “engage targets” as if I asked him too. Of course he had no idea that I’ve been shooting for the better part of 15 years, and I’m an active competition shooter. But I’m a quiet son of a bitch, so I just sat back and let him blah blah blah for a solid 15 minutes. He brings his POS tacticool SCAR 17S with all the lights and suppressors on the market and offers to let me shoot it. Well, I’m also a cocky son of a gun, so I proceeded to stack five rounds on a dime at 200, and then just looked at him like a moron, with a grin so smug - it’d make Emma Stone melt.

Seeing that I was the alpha, he quietly stood up, walked away, and didn’t bother me again.

Don’t be that guy. You never know who you’re dealing with - remember that gentlemen.


U.S. Armored Force vs German Armored Force as experienced by American tank crews.

two-bitoutlaw replied to your post “Do you think that if Qui-Gon had lived, he would’ve gone back to free…”

i love that you call the bullshit that is qui gon jinn because there is just something so w r o n g with that character in terms of how he rationalizes prioritizing some people over others.

Here’s the thing about Qui-Gon Jinn: when I was a kid, I loved him. And I think we’re meant to love him. I think Lucas actually intended him to be the good Jedi, the one who was willing to buck the rules when required. There’s a really common idea in fandom that if Qui-Gon had trained Anakin, Anakin wouldn’t have turned. I suspect Lucas may have even wanted to imply that.

But. It doesn’t hold up.

And as an adult, I look at Qui-Gon and I see someone who’s actually very familiar.

(Buckle up, kids, it’s time for story time with Fia.) I grew up in one of the poorest counties in Kansas. Pretty much everybody was dirt poor, with emphasis on the dirt. People worked on small farms, hoping to keep the farm going for just another season, or they worked dead-end minimum wage jobs, or they didn’t work at all. (Or they made meth. We had, at the time, one of the highest meth production rates in the entire country.) And most kids growing up there knew they could expect a life pretty much exactly the same as what their parents had.

But there was one way out. All through high school, and even some weeks in middle school, they had a table right there in the cafeteria, where everyone would see them: the army recruiters. They were clean and professional and friendly, and they were full of stories about all the opportunities that the military would open up for us. We would get a good education - maybe even a college degree after we’d served. We’d learn valuable job skills. We’d serve our country. We’d save lives and travel and be part of something important, something so much bigger than our little town. We’d be heroes.

We just had to enlist. (And it was always enlist: recruiters don’t come to shitty little schools like mine looking for officer material.)

And the recruiters were really good at selling it. You never really heard much if anything about what it was actually like to be in the army. What you heard about were those magic words: opportunity, benefits, recognition. And, unspoken but most important of all, the chance to get out.

Of course, the Jedi Order isn’t exactly a military organization, and Qui-Gon didn’t exactly roll into Mos Espa looking for people to enlist. But even so… damn does his sales pitch look awfully familiar.

Kurdish female fighter's death

  This is Ceylan Ozalp, age 19.

   This 19-year-old Kurd fought for her people against Islamic State militants. United Nations reports that ISIS commits mass killings, enslaving thousands of women and children for sexual abuse. 

   She promised she’d rather kill herself before falling into ISIS’s hands. In late September, early October, Ceylan Ozalp killed herself after a firefight with ISIS.

   According to Al Arabiya News, she said “goodbye” over the radio before turning her gun on herself in a fulfillment of her promise.

   She was a young woman deeply committed to protecting her rights and the rights of others and, before even leaving her teenage years, killed herself to preserve her body and soul from the horrifying deeds ISIS commits every day.   

And then you all of a sudden meet that one person, and everything feels right
—  Late night thoughts

C: So every few months, weeks – basically during the holidays, when i come home my grandma and some other women in my family ask me the infamous “You got a boyfriend?” question. The first year, i think, they were grateful. Now i think it’s slowly morphing into, “We gotta get you in a relationship before the good ones are all taken.” She mentioned to me how she knows a girl my age with a husband in the military and a two story house. I’m thinking, “Look lady, i don’t know if i even want kids, a house or stationary job.”


Sally Po.

“Justice. It’s become such a cheap word now. The Alliance and Oz said peace and justice were their objectives. Well, I have my own sense of justice [. .] What’s the point of having strength if you don’t have the heart?”

(from Gundam Wing)

 “I was a young boy stuck in a girl’s body growing up in Southern
        California. When my parents decided to get divorced I decided to come
        out as Lesbian since I didn’t know there was a term for my dysphoria.
        I had to endured getting bullied all through school and even at home.
        When I turned 17, I joined the United States Army. I deployed to Iraq
        in 2009-2010. I served 7 years before I was medically discharged for
        an injury last year. Today, I am a 26 year old man. I legally changed
        my name and gender last month. Thanks to my service in the Army I was
        able to travel all of Europe and the US. I attended a private
        university in Hawaii and have met amazing people. I have about 5
        states left to visit (Alaska, Montana, Mississippi, Louisiana, and
        Florida). I customized a German car in Stuttgart, GE and have recently
        purchased land to have my first home built. My life has not been
        perfect with two failed marriages, loosing friends in the military,
        and my ongoing battle with PTSD. I do not let that bring me down
        though because a lot of things I used to dream about became a reality.
        Life was hard but I never gave up. Surprisingly, the county of
        Maricopa has been very accepting and helpful during my transition.
        Society may not be as accepting but it is our duty to educate them. We
        are not different we are just being ourselves and is okay. I wish I
        had someone as I contemplated taking my life growing up and reminding
        me it gets better because it does.”

        Retired Sergeant, USA

Sgt's (true) Stories - The Walking "Dead"

It was a cold and windy autumn afternoon in the picturesque settings of green and open country….
Legit, nobody cares.

I’m leading a small group of recruits (five or six of them) on a training hike through the countryside and, as we say, it was bombing it down. Hail and rain and snow hitting us as good as horizontal. As we plough our way through some knee high grassy land, we suddenly find ourselves stood over a dead body.
Now I’m not kidding here.
There was, right in front of us, in the middle of nowhere, a man in his late 50s, maybe 60s, lying on his back, eyes closed, grey-ish looking skin and he’s 100% drenched. The long grass had obscured him from view until we were practically on top of him.

For about a full minute we all exchange looks in utter silence and bewilderment. Then I realise that nobody is actually exchanging looks; the group of newbies are all looking to me for some sort of guidance.
We were all adequately trained (supposedly) in the ways of emergency first aid and mountain survival, but this poor guy looks beyond any sort of help. Someone quietly suggests we phone an ambulance - as if there is anyway on god’s earth that anyone would be able to reach us here.
As we stand there gawping like fools, a large sheepdog comes bounding along through the grass and jumps onto the prone form of this older dude and shakes itself off.
With a bit of a jolt the guy sits up and doesn’t look the slightest bit surprised to see himself surrounded by younger folk, all wearing camo and expressions of horror/disbelief.
“Good afternoon,” he says, as though we were some old friends he met while strolling in the park. “This is my friend Shelley.” He pats the utterly saturated and steaming Border Collie.
I manage some sort of feeble explanation as to what we’re doing, hoping he would respond in turn. However, it wasn’t to be and without further ado, he jumps up with the energy of someone much younger and off he strolls, down the hill - dog at his heels -towards the dense woodland from which we have just come.
My training group just stand there gaping wordlessly after him (they did that a lot).

We never did find out who he was, or what on earth he was doing lying down in a field in the middle of the countryside during a violent storm. But that man sure broke the tedious pace of the hike, and for that I couldn’t help but be grateful.

And that was by no means the last “wtf” moment that day…


View of the night atop Haleakala Mountain, Hawaii, above the clouds and during the night, where several observatories peer upwards.