Struggling for Independence and Control

I was talking with my sister tonight and I finally put into words what I have been thinking for quite sometime. So I decided I'll write it out here. You know ... Before I publish my book and make trillions. (Yep. Trillions.)

In the "military world" you hear of story after story of failed marriages due to infidelity or she just "up and left" she "couldn't handle it anymore." And these things are unfortunate. I view them more as a "cop out," and they need to learn to "keep it in their pants," but it's unfortunate. Because on the other end is a wife or husband, soldier, marine, airman, or sailor who has to deal with that situation. They might put up a good front - but beneathe the exterior is a sea of pain waiting to explode. All in due time.

After The Corporal deployed though, I realized something ... not all marriages or relationships face the absolute death due to infidelity or fear. However, they all face the struggle of a wife and her independence and a husband and his control.

When The Cpl is home - he takes care of me. Literally everything. Is he a stickler about money? Definitely. But if I REALLY need new shampoo (after I used "the VERY LAST drop!") he'll make sure I have it. He'll make sure I have food. He'll make sure there is enough gas in the car to get me to work. He'll make sure that I have a place to sleep every night. A warm place. He'll make sure that the laundry is folded right out of the dryer - to avoid wrinkles. He makes sure of everything. And what do I do? Let him control. Let him have control. I deny my independence, so he can maintain the control. He needs that.

Flipside? He gets on a plane, and leaves the country for 6+ months. That independence that I've been hiding deep down inside and ignoring everyday has to make its way up. And that control that he has maintained well, perfect control of, has to go away. Because that control that he loves, that he needs as a man, is gone. How can he possibly control ANYTHING a gazillion miles away? All he can do is sign online, ask me how I am, check the bank account, and wait for the next few months to pass. But here I am driving myself to the ER at 4:30 on a Saturday morning in excruciating pain due to kidney stones. Independence.

Is there a happy medium? Probably not. There will be that struggle each deployment, and everytime he's home. The question is ... How do you control it? ;)

Convenience

"The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy." - MLK Jr.

Comfort and convenience are two words that I love. I love them so much that I'd have their babies. Comfort Jr and Convenience Jr. Every human being loves comfort and convenience, but as my mother always said ...

"Life isn't fair. Get a helmet."

That is not an exaggeration - she really said that. At least 45 times a day. When she said the "get a helmet" part I always just thought she was trying to reitterate the fact that I was her "special child." At 21 though, I knew she meant something a little bit more than just to point out my "special child" status.

By "getting a helmet" she basically meant ... Get ready for the fit to hit the shan. Life doesn't go the way we expect - ever. Look at me ... I'm 21 years old, 2 years away from my bachelor's, engaged to a boy I wrote off when I was 15, and he's a deployed marine to boot. Is this really my life? See ... fit hit the shan. And trust me ... It's flyin'.

This life is not comfortable or convenient. I've not spoken to James in a week. A week. We're that disgusting couple that when we're away from each other, just at work, we text "I miss you." Yeah, we're that stupid. But I have to remind myself each day, I'm safe. I face the fear of a car accident or a house fire. He faces the fear of terrorists and 17 year olds with guns and phenomenal accuracy. He lays in a bed each night where he hears missles and bombs and gunshots in the distance. I lay in a bed each night where I hear the occasional F18 or EA-6B Prowler zooming overhead ... just "practicing." To boot we're both separate from each other. Uncomfortable and inconvenient.

Where am I standing in this time though? Where am I in this time of challenge and controversy? Tonight I looked at a picture of James that I have next to my bed. I stared and my eyes filled with tears, but happy ones. Because as I looked at that picture, and that half grin, I saw grace. At 15 years old I wrote James off. I hurt him, and I wrote him off. I did the same at 16. Then again at 19. Today at 21 I wear a ring that symbolizes me as his betrothed. Would it have worked at 15, 16, and 19? I don't know, probably not. But today it works. Today in this time of challenge and controversy I am revelling at the fact that God extends grace to me ... each moment I am blessed to spend with James.

This deployment sucks. I won't lie. And no one can sit and tell me that it's "alright." But James remains strong and stoic during this time of challenge and controversy. I will return the favor, marvel in my blessing, and embrace this amazing grace.

"Dear Deployment. I hate you as much as I love him."

Deployment Deuce

So ... The blog has taken a spin. But don't worry - there will still be middle child humor. You know that saying, "You can take the girl out of the honky tonk, but you can't take the honky tonk out of the girl?" Well, you can take the middle child away from the rest of the siblings, but you can't take the middle child out of the girl. Or ... something like that.

As I type this - He is in the air.
If you've ever known a marine, sailor, soldier, or airman - you know all that goes into a deployment. Is it safe to say I'm exhausted?

For the past week it has felt like all of the days just molded and became one. Time went increasingly faster as we got to D-Day (deployment day). And I am not going to be able to sleep, though I have work @ 10am, until I get a phonecall or email that says ... "I've touched down. I'm safe."

As you all know - last deployment was about "winning James/The Corporal/Randolph back." This deployment, as fiance, is a whole other ball game. I stood in the parking lot today, swallowing the tears that were lingering in the back of my throat, "hugged it out," and said my goodbye. I've not cried yet. I don't think I will. That's the funny thing about me ... Or maybe just girls ... We cry when it's totally uncessary - and when IT IS necessary we're like ... "So there is this great pair of jeans I was thinking about buying ... " Ok ... maybe it IS just me?

When I look at James, pride overcomes me. It's this thing that says ... You're the luckiest person alive. It's looking at him, and knowing, that he is doing what he is called to do. And believing that whatever he does, is worth it. The pride that I have in him forces me to a place where it's okay. Because deep down inside of me, right next to the pride I have in him, in knowing he is mine, is the additional knowledge that he is sacrificing his all for something greater then one can fathom.

In closing tonight ... I draw from Queen Gorgo's character in the movie 300 ...

"...Send the army for the preservation of liberty. Send it for justice. Send it for law and order. Send it for reason. But most importantly, send our army for hope - hope that a king and his men have not been wasted to the pages of history - that their courage bonds us together, that we are made stronger by their actions, and that your choices today reflect their bravery."

Will my choices today reflect his bravery?

Midnight Meanderings ...

Outside of school and work, I don't have much of a life. At least for the next seven months or so. Fortunately I don't work for the next 5 days, so I get this grand opportunity to do ... well ... just school. And just school is fine by me.

But tonight after catching up on my Grey's Anatomy, I'm laying here and I'm finding it difficult to fall asleep. I'm tired ... And I have to be up in about 6 hours ... But I can't fall asleep. Have you ever had that feeling?

That feeling of ... I'd rather be there than here? "There" is that one place, that one single place, "the there" that you want to use to escape "the here." It's that safe haven, the hidden place you protect from ever being discovered, it's a safety net ... It's home.

I'd be asleep if I were there. If I were home. Sometimes I close my eyes and I'm there. To see the blue eyes staring back at me. I'm safe. There is nothing but him and me. No stress. No worry. No fear. Because perfect love casts out fear.

I keep my eyes shut. I beg the moment lasts just a few minutes longer. That I'm able to recapture the smell of home. The smell of there. But as the silence fades into the distance and the sound of here, the present, becomes painstakingly clear. It was a nice trip. I can't wait to shut my eyes and go back.

Your entire life you watch movies of the prince rescuing the princess. Slaying the dragon to release her from his grasp. You think for some time that it's going to be like that when it finally happens to you. You allow your finite little mind to embrace the "reality" of Cinderella. Then you grow up, and you wake up one day and realize that it doesn't happen like that. It's just a fairytale.

The funny thing is though ... When it's real ... When it's not infatuation, but honest heart-felt love. When it's s bond untainted by that which surrounds it ... Well, it's sort of like the prince slaying the dragon. Only instead of tights he wears a marine uniform. Instead of slaying the dragon he's protecting you from fear. He doesn't break out in random song and dance (at least I like to pretend he doesn't), but he does remind you at least 4 times a day that he loves you. He's the security you've been longing for, but never thought you needed. The hero saving you from yourself, when you thought yourself was all you had. He's home.

And ... Well ... I can't wait to be home again.

Girls, girls, girls ....

I often find myself having this conversation with The Corporal. Well, many guys for that matter.

Me: There was definitely something between the two of you.
Him: No! There wasn’t! Why would I lie?!
Me: Okay, maybe there wasn’t anything on your end, but definitely on her end.
Him: No. I swear! There was nothing there! She’s just a really cool girl to hang out with!

I feel that there are some general assumptions that I need to debunk. As a sporadic blogger; which really doesn’t lend me any rights whatsoever, it’s important that I tell the truth. So here is the truth …


The Two Important Truths About Females

I: “I’ve only ever known one woman to never speak badly about another female. Two days later I found out she used to be a man.”

There is this myth floating around that there are honest girls out there who never say anything negative about other women in their life – This is the part where I hold up a big, white sign with “BULLS**T” written on it. Coming from me, “A Kelsea: All of the strengths of a woman, and none of the weaknesses,” every female in your life has, in fact, said something negative about you behind your back. Sure, we “honest” ones will also turn around and tell you the same thing to your face – but do not be fooled. Even your sister has said some pretty hurtful things about you behind your back.

Myth: There are honest women out there who don’t talk badly about other women.
Truth: If there ARE those women, they are most definitely transvestites.



II: “There was nothing there! Except maybe the fact we talked on the phone for an hour at a time, and I just asked her to go to Wal Mart with me to pick out my sheets. And I mean … Sure; she did talk to her friends about me … But seriously – NOTHING there.”

This is my favorite one. I’ve been sitting on this one for a while. In fact, I’ve often thought about doing a scientific study on this one alone; then publishing a book on it. It would literally make millions. So, please, take this free nugget of knowledge and enhance not only your life, but the lives of those around you.

If a girl is talking about you to her friends, she likes you. If those friends, in return, tell you “We can’t wait to meet you! We’ve heard so much about you!” that girl is talking about you nonstop. If a girl is talking about you nonstop, she likes you. If a girl sends you a picture of her showing a little more cleavage than necessary complete with pouty lips and/or the “cute Myspacey half grin,” she likes you. (And for the love of the sweet Savior, do NOT save the picture until months after. Spare your girlfriend the anxiety.) If she text messages you when she’s having a bad day, or she’s not feeling well, and it’s merely just to let you know … She’s expecting you to make her feel better, oh AND she likes you.

Okay really if she does any of the following - She likes you.

* Text messages you just to "let you know she's thinking about you."
* Gives you a call, past normal "calling hours," because she "can't sleep."
* She had a "stressful day" and needs you to "make her laugh."
* She really, really, really likes the same baseball team as you. Even though she's not from the same state as you and doesn't even know what an RBI is. But "oh my gosh, isn't that so weird?!" (Watch out www.mlb.com - crazed girl coming your way to purchase jersey she apparently has...)
* Laughs at literally everything you say. "My grandmom died when I was 7..." "HAHAHA!"
* Tries, desperately, to understand football and/or your sport of interest.
* Asks you if she looks alright in these jeans. What about these ones? Do these ones make my butt look big?
* Hugs you for longer than 3 seconds, without the "We're Just Friends" pat. (Not to be confused with the "I'm Not Gay" pat.")
* And this one is a specific one for you men who are in a relationship - if she always asks you "Are you happy with her? She seems kind of controlling, manipulative, depressing, needy, clingy..." She really, really, really likes you.
* For some reason, her voice gets louder when she's talking to you while you're on the phone with your girlfriend. "Oh my gosh! HAHAHA! You're so funny! Thanks for asking me to hang out! You're so awesome! Do YOU HAVE ANY GUM!?"

There are plenty more that I could write, complete with examples, but I feel as though you have grasped the general idea. For many years women have been trying to figure out how to score the man they want. And there have been some (me) that have succeeded. But outside of dropping her pants, girls have found that the "we're just friends" and "we have the same interests" approaches work the best. There are some girls (me) who will go as far to encourage you in your current relationship, while they (me) are secretly planning the demise of it. "Okay, if they do get engaged ... How can I break it up?"

Myth: We're really just friends!
Truth: Bull freaking crap. "Friends" like Ross and Rachel? "Friends" like Monica and Bill? The jig is up. You, sir, might just be a "friend," but she's totally hoping for more ...

Conclusion: Now, I know there will be females who read this and think I am a white devil. However, I want you to be honest with yourself. Honestly - have you not thought ... "I am so much better than his wife/girlfriend/fiancee." Have you also not found yourself wondering of how you can wiggle your way into his arms/heart? Haven't you found yourself curious as to why he chose her over you? Have you not generated interest in things that you don't really like, just because you want to be noticed? See ... As a female ... you probably have.

Myth: I really do respect you as a friend. And I want what's best for you.
Truth: Well, the truth is ... You don't really respect him (or his girlfriend), and you really only want what's best for you.

Excuse me for a minute. I'm going to go text The Corporal and tell him I love him. I don't want any girl thinking she has some wiggle room because I'm "evil."

Cha Ching!

Heaven help me.
You know that feeling when you're looking at a really cute baby. And the baby has really chubby cheeks, and a perfectly round (bald) head, and they giggle, and they smell like they were just rolled around in an entire bottle of Johnsons & Johnsons babywash, and you just want to go up and squeeze them, pinch their cheeks, and write really long run-on sentences?

Well, that's how I feel towards Randolph every time I see him, but when he switches from Randolph to The Corporal ... CHA CHING. I am ready to get into my car and drive the 8.55 hours to Havelock, NC and eat that mancandy the crap up! I know, it's horrible. I didn't want to become this girl, I swear.

I'm not a uniform chaser or a Marinemonger. I'm completely captivated by Randolph ... and emphatically enamored by The Corporal.

I'm going to go pray for a little bit. Maybe run like 18 miles. Or drive 8.55 hours.
Relax, I'm kidding!

(Oh and shout out to Becky Z.)

Reader's (Err) Digest

I think that it had been so long since my last post that it would probably be more intelligent of me to go fetch my not-even-three-yet niece Lilli and have her write this post for me. She'd probably be better equipped to connect two thoughts and complete a sentence. (I forget - is it I before E? Y before B?)

Truthfully, it's been a whirlwind few weeks. The week leading up to The Corporal's return home was so stressful and nerve-wracking that I lost a total of 7 pounds. In one week. I plan on going on Rachel Ray's show and sharing my "secret diet." My one rule to obey? Throw up everything you eat. Sure, it sounds like bulimia, but it's not. It's involuntary pukage. I didn't want to throw up the delicious food I was consuming. Do you know that one of my favorite things of all time are brownies? Do you know that the moment I took a bite of a brownie, two days before his return home, I had to spit it out because my stomach threw a massive fit? Oh yeah people ... Glamorous.

So, after I lost a good 7 pounds, February 13th rolled around - the DAY I was to see him. I was so impatient, so nervous, so sick. He was to arrive at 11:30PM. I dozed in and out on the couch as Marme and Douglas watched TV. At around 12:30 this conversation happens ...

Marme: Kelsea, seriously I am worried about him. He should be here by now.
Me: Mom, I'm letting him be a man. He'll find his way here. I don't want to have to go and lob his balls off and save him.
Marme: You're being a jerk. And rude.
Me: *Grabs keys, exits through front door*

I went to go retrieve Seth, a future Marine, so we could do a little reconniscence. The entire time though I was thinking ... "This is going to make him feel like less of a man if his girlfriend has to come and retrieve him from the evil twist and turns of Todd, PA. This is to be the other way around."

12:40AM, I get this text message .... "Come find me."
Right ... Be right there, babe. Let me drive all over the middle of nowhere in hopes of finding you. On my way!

1:30AM, driving down Beavertown Road, to the left of the road there he sits. Saved. We get him home, and as I walk over to him, we hug for a few seconds, and in true Kelsea fashion all I could muster was ...

"I am so tired. And that, mixed with the fact that I had to come and save you, completely sucks me dry of truly enjoying this moment."

He says? "I agree."

5:30AM, we finally fall asleep after about 4 hours of finally being in the same room as each other. Nervousness, gone.

The weekend was wonderful, and as Sunday approached I thought for sure we would be saying goodbye. But that night we worked it out that I would be going down to Virginia with him to spend time with his family. We spent the week there, and truly grew to realize that we are, in fact, in a relationship.

Being us though, our most favorite parts were the simplest ones. I loved the drive down to Virginia. I remember driving down Lemaster Road, looking to my right, and all of the sudden he says ... "I am so glad we're finally together." Instaneously a new wave of peace swept over me. He didn't know just how happy I was that we were finally together. We ate so much Chick-fil-A it's disgusting. We wrote it off as we're both horribly deprived of it's deliciousness, and it was important that we take advantage of the opportunity. (But still ... It's gross how much we ate.)

The simple moments together in the car...
At a restaurant when he'd let me put my feet up on his bench...
As he walked into the bathroom with his coffee, gave me a kiss, and asked me how I slept as I put my makeup on ... Every morning ...
Laughing at his inability to accurately throw a jelly bean into his mouth ...
The simple moments made that week probably one of the best weeks of my life.

And it reminded me of one thing ... That boy is the best thing that has ever happened to me. And it is, without a doubt, meant to be.