Yes, I feel lonely sometimes, nothing to be ashamed of. Ive been on my own for nearly 4 years, it's expected. To touch down in another state, or even in a foriegn country, a complete outlier, living on the fringes of their established society. You learn to adapt, to create companionship spontaneously, to make the best of your surroundings. You become a type of performance artist, living and dying by your wits, learning to connect with those you have nothing in common with, at least initially. Truth is, there's a common bond that connects us all beneath the surface if we just peer into the darkness hard enough. At the risk of sounding like a hippie, it shoes that God is on your side, that you're okay, no matter what ills befall you.
The first night I realized I was on my own was the first night of bootcamp. I listened attentively, horrified by the whimpering all around me. It seemed to fill the cavernous bay of our berthing, the low wailing reverberating off of the industrial grade steel bunks. I laid awake recanting my final memories before naval incarceration, my last few moments as a free man. My girlfriend fading into the distance as I drove away heavy hearted, my family collapsing in tears as my departure date drew nearer, and most painful, my parents walking away from me in tears, nearing collapse, as they dropped me off at my hotel, feeling they abandoned me to my fate. Oh, but I wasn't abandoned, I was freed, and through the alchemy of pain, sweat and struggle, I would become a Sailor. Ultimately, I would become a man.
I stared deep into the whiskey glass, searching for meaning in the murky brown liquid. The aroma emanating off of it was strong and vibrant, warning me of the danger it posed. Perhaps here I would find an answer to her mind games. Hot and cold, warm then icy, with bittersweet flirtation and torturous coyness, she pestered at my sanity, making me wonder if I could even trust myself. The auburn liquid was the same color as her beautiful eyes, peering at me from behind her librarian glasses. "$47 Sir.", the bartender said. Worst money Ive ever spent, because I still don't have my answer.
The first night I realized I was on my own was the first night of bootcamp. I listened attentively, horrified by the whimpering all around me. It seemed to fill the cavernous bay of our berthing, the low wailing reverberating off of the industrial grade steel bunks. I laid awake recanting my final memories before naval incarceration, my last few moments as a free man. My girlfriend fading into the distance as I drove away heavy hearted, my family collapsing in tears as my departure date drew nearer, and most painful, my parents walking away from me in tears, nearing collapse, as they dropped me off at my hotel, feeling they abandoned me to my fate. Oh, but I wasn't abandoned, I was freed, and through the alchemy of pain, sweat and struggle, I would become a Sailor. Ultimately, I would become a man.
I stared deep into the whiskey glass, searching for meaning in the murky brown liquid. The aroma emanating off of it was strong and vibrant, warning me of the danger it posed. Perhaps here I would find an answer to her mind games. Hot and cold, warm then icy, with bittersweet flirtation and torturous coyness, she pestered at my sanity, making me wonder if I could even trust myself. The auburn liquid was the same color as her beautiful eyes, peering at me from behind her librarian glasses. "$47 Sir.", the bartender said. Worst money Ive ever spent, because I still don't have my answer.