Random Memory… worth thinking of

I was at a party with my 5 housemates (all Air Force guys) back in the early 90s. These guys would have D&D nights, drinking nights and basically I was pretty much a friend (and outsider) to this community. I had my own room, but would frequently find it shared by some random stranger that parked in the bed without my approval due to lack of space

The first guy was a douche. He was a DJ on a country station, pretended to pay our electricity bills while he went to town and bought whatever he wanted. When we finally figured this out, all of of us disbanded. The 2nd was a truthful guy : someone I thought I felt in love with (although I had no idea what love was at the time) and he moved early on to Korea. Our 3rd roommate ended up getting married, and the 4th dropped out and went back to Idaho or Ohio (I can’t remember) to live the rest of his life out.

Of all of these guys, I would have to say I was the most successful. I started with a horrible past (college drop out), meeting far too many men, being a  trash white girl that was only looking for someone to be with. I had no future, no life.

Yet. at some point, I decided to leave. Probably after throwing my first at our largest roommate twice and then his car, to find myself in the hospital explaining that my 3 broken bones that were qualified as a breaker’s break were due to a “fall on the driveway”. Of course, the doctor never believed it, but I found myself in a cast and realized I couldn’t live this way anymore.

I found a halfway house (between a prostitute and a homeless alcoholic) and lived on Ramen Noodles for 2 years before I found out my French grand father had died.

Mom called me and asked me to come to France for the funeral. At this point, I was 121 pounds at 5ft10 and had been refused for recruitment in the Air Force due to the lack of pounds I had on me. Perhaps that saved me: all I wanted to do was to become a KC-135 pilot to refuel B-52s  in flight.

The death of Grand–Pere made me realize I was wasting my life away and I became adamant on becoming someone someone could be proud of.  I worked my 12 hour shifts, did what I could do to prove I was worth it and ultimately was able to achieve what I am today. Wiuthout the will, the emotional backing of my grand parents, I am not sure I would be where I am today. but I thank them from the bottom of my heart. Je vous aime.

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Knight in Shining Armor

So, met my future husband (he doesn’t know that yet) for lunch today again and all I could see were these big brown eyes and flashing white teeth while we chatted. He’s so into his profession, fund raising, living life to the fullest, that I want to suck the energy out of him and take advantage of his compassion.

He sees the glass half full at all times. If I even told you what he did in life, you would laugh. It’s basically the worst possible job you could imagine doing unless you plan to make money, but he finds comfort in helping people through their stress.

I feel like I met the man of my dreams. He’s everything I have ever wanted. Yet, something separates us from being together. Our careers collide, but our motivations are the same. What to make of this other than to laugh about it and ignore what is ultimately going to happen to us…..