I have very little time left, I fear.
Long story shortened to a few paragraphs with a lot of missing chapters. Ask if you want some blanks filled in. Some Strobe history, for all zero of you who read this. Catsup, if you will. Or is it Ketchup? Either way, here's how I got here.
Like any story, A meets B. 'A' is a person, most of the time. Or it's a plant or an animal, but it's always something living. 'B' does not have to be. B can be a well written book, a pencil to a piece of paper, a leaf that gives inspiration, anything with that certain magic to give A that "Oomph" factor worth telling a story about.
I'm A, and my B was a girl. Not just any girl, but "The Girl." At least, I thought she was. What did I know, though. I mean, I was only 14 when I thought it. And then I was 15, then 16, then 17, then 18. Wow, time sure does fly. I'm 18, we're both graduated from high school, and we wanted to be married and have our happily ever after. I wanted to give her this, and the only way that I thought I could do having grown up with less than stellar circumstances and watching daddy bust his ass my whole life with nothing to show for it, was to temporarily join the Army.
They'll take care of me long enough so that I can finance us both through college, and then I can escape the Death Machine and never look back, or admit that I was ever associated with it. I talked with her for 6 months before I made my decision, with her supporting me every step of the way. Her father, after all, was a retired Sergeant First Class, so she knew what was going to happen after I joined, with all the moving and what have you. Well, to make it easier on us to go to college, I didn't even go full Army, I went National Guard, because I had a full time guard job back home in my state just waiting for me. Props to Alaska.
So I go away for basic and AIT. 3 months into basic, after five years together, she decided out of the blue, that "I don't want to be with someone in the military." One week later, she's with another guy, and I honestly couldn't have been happier for her. But now? I'm stuck in an organization I don't feel a part of.
Fast forward 3 years. Summary of what happened in three years - Got back from training, drowned self in all kinds of chemicals and alcoholic substances in an attempt to make the frustration go away. Friends perish, I clean my slate. Meet a new girl, love again! Yes. Marriage and little ones planned and happily ever after, almost reached. I leave for deployment, and alas, it apparently was not to be. Best of luck to her though.
Now? Here is Strobe. I'm sitting here typing from a computer "over there" (Can't disclose location) and it's almost time for me to go home. It's been 13 months over here, I have a 'couple' left, and then I get to assimilate back into the real world. But I don't know what the real world is anymore, since I've gotten so used to the fake one I've been forced to survive in.
So I follow my ex and one of my good friends to this site, where not only are there plenty of humorous articles to read, but there's also naked beautiful canvases covered in various forms of art to help pass the time for the next 'X' many of days.
In short? I'm scared to go home. Because I'm ready to wash my hands of this madness. But I don't know if they'll have me.
Long story shortened to a few paragraphs with a lot of missing chapters. Ask if you want some blanks filled in. Some Strobe history, for all zero of you who read this. Catsup, if you will. Or is it Ketchup? Either way, here's how I got here.
Like any story, A meets B. 'A' is a person, most of the time. Or it's a plant or an animal, but it's always something living. 'B' does not have to be. B can be a well written book, a pencil to a piece of paper, a leaf that gives inspiration, anything with that certain magic to give A that "Oomph" factor worth telling a story about.
I'm A, and my B was a girl. Not just any girl, but "The Girl." At least, I thought she was. What did I know, though. I mean, I was only 14 when I thought it. And then I was 15, then 16, then 17, then 18. Wow, time sure does fly. I'm 18, we're both graduated from high school, and we wanted to be married and have our happily ever after. I wanted to give her this, and the only way that I thought I could do having grown up with less than stellar circumstances and watching daddy bust his ass my whole life with nothing to show for it, was to temporarily join the Army.
They'll take care of me long enough so that I can finance us both through college, and then I can escape the Death Machine and never look back, or admit that I was ever associated with it. I talked with her for 6 months before I made my decision, with her supporting me every step of the way. Her father, after all, was a retired Sergeant First Class, so she knew what was going to happen after I joined, with all the moving and what have you. Well, to make it easier on us to go to college, I didn't even go full Army, I went National Guard, because I had a full time guard job back home in my state just waiting for me. Props to Alaska.
So I go away for basic and AIT. 3 months into basic, after five years together, she decided out of the blue, that "I don't want to be with someone in the military." One week later, she's with another guy, and I honestly couldn't have been happier for her. But now? I'm stuck in an organization I don't feel a part of.
Fast forward 3 years. Summary of what happened in three years - Got back from training, drowned self in all kinds of chemicals and alcoholic substances in an attempt to make the frustration go away. Friends perish, I clean my slate. Meet a new girl, love again! Yes. Marriage and little ones planned and happily ever after, almost reached. I leave for deployment, and alas, it apparently was not to be. Best of luck to her though.
Now? Here is Strobe. I'm sitting here typing from a computer "over there" (Can't disclose location) and it's almost time for me to go home. It's been 13 months over here, I have a 'couple' left, and then I get to assimilate back into the real world. But I don't know what the real world is anymore, since I've gotten so used to the fake one I've been forced to survive in.
So I follow my ex and one of my good friends to this site, where not only are there plenty of humorous articles to read, but there's also naked beautiful canvases covered in various forms of art to help pass the time for the next 'X' many of days.
In short? I'm scared to go home. Because I'm ready to wash my hands of this madness. But I don't know if they'll have me.
I will have questions for you. But they will be elsewhere