Applause for the Wallflower

I've found it strange and difficult this past year to come to my computer and harness enough stamina to exclaim the goings-on with my life. I find that when I'm mostly carefree with nothing to complain about, I must find my blog untouched. But today--yesterday--was a strange day.

I attempted, to no avail, to describe how I felt about what he'd said to me. Frankly, I don't really know what to feel. To tell you the truth, I don't know if it's even worth worrying about because with his track record, the idea will be soon mowed over just as quickly as it had grown--new and exciting things in his life tend to fizzle out and flop like that. So I wonder if it's worth working myself up over. And I know how much it'll...well I don't really know how he'll feel when he reads that this is what I think of his current prospects. I'm not scared though. Normally, in situations such as these, I'd be afraid to be offensive, opting to keep my mouth shut. But I know he will check this and read it eventually, if not sooner than later. In any case, I'm not afraid now. I'm not afraid of hurting his feelings or annoying him or causing some sort of contemplation in his mind. I encourage it, and I hope he can understand what I have to say.

Let me start with this: for so long, I'd been used to hearing the ideology of a genuine soldier through the eyes of the one battered (and I use this word very loosely) soul that had been left to scrape up the pieces when he'd left--about the truth in service, about honor of patriotism, about the prestige of his personal mission. And here I am, little old me, with my boyfriend who, as he so eloquently described, soaks the benefits of the government. I can't lie; for a while, this is the substance I believed made up the man I claimed to love, but deep down, I yearned for someone with a true sense of duty and moral fiber, someone I could be proud of. And I can't lie here either: what can I be proud of? Such a selfish, vapid reason to push someone along, down a path to possible destruction (most literally), but admittedly, I claim to be nothing more than a base and shallow girlfriend seeking to fill the "my-boyfriend-is-better-than-your's" role.

So hearing that he wants to be more than a boy playing Army waiting for his next meal ticket, it is music to my ears. He has yet again returned to that endearing man that stole my heart and was everything I'd wanted--as welcome and warm to me as the moment I'd set eyes on him. He must know that this selfish drive for him to be happy makes me sick. I hope he knows. I hate myself for it day after day, every moment that passes that I think about him furthering himself, and sometimes I disgust myself with plans made all too soon based solely on a mere whim. But this is who I am, well who I am behind closed doors. Did he know this of me? Now we talk so little of ourselves, that all conversation seems to consist of is the day's activities, a hearty helping of "I Love You"s, and a warm goodnight before he or I fall swiftly into the comfort of sleep.

Regardless, it makes me happy to know I'm not alone in my aspirations for him to be more involved man. I think I've always known he wanted it for himself, but because I hear so little of it, it makes it difficult for me to really believe that it's absolutely true. But even so, his carefree laugh and the ease of my weight in his arms...it makes everything that much easier to accept. Rightfully, as any girlfriend would agree, I, in no sane state of mind, would ever want my love to walk, willingly mind you, into the arms of prominent danger. But as I know he wants better for himself, and of course being selfish as I am, I know that this will shock his system, perhaps, out of the comatose state it's been in for three years. There are other ways of doing this...normal ways, like going back to school, or who knows what else...but as difficult a person at really figuring out as he proves to be, I think I've finally come to understand that nothing but walking into a war zone could really do the trick; something dramatic, and worrisome, and dutiful all rolled into one.

I suppose talking about it here is supposed make me realize that he has my full blessing to do as his pleases. But frankly, I just cannot give it. Of course I am partial to the idea, but as selfish as I am for wanting his happiness, I am selfish for myself as well. Yes, I want you at my prom. Yes, I want you at my graduation. Yes, I want you to help me move into college. Yes, I want you to be able to talk me through my first all-nighter before a major test. If I didn't care about our relationship, I wouldn't want any of these things, I wouldn't care. But as you've told me not to base my choice of school on your account, you must not, absolutely cannot base this decision on me. I'm appreciative that you factor me in, but quite honestly, I just cannot handle the pressure.

We are both so young...and already I feel like we've both failed at little pieces of life--him in a rut, me crashing before I've even left the ground. But I won't retract. I'm not sorry for what I think about this. And if this is offending, it must be a hard truth that is absolutely necessary. But beyond all else, I hope you know I love you with all my heart. And that's the reason I'm able to tell you this. Because, like I said, I know you'll be reading this. And as always, with a well thought out piece of writing, I always do my best explanation. I hope you understand.