October 20th,
"He who fights with monsters might take care lest he thereby become a monster. And if you gaze to long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also at you."
That's what I am...what I have become...a monster. Worse, a Jekyll and Hyde knock off whose moods are as volatile and frightening as the character created by Robert Louis Stephenson so long ago.
What have I done?
God...what have I done?
One minute, I was in a friendly sparing match with Lady Jaye...practicing our hand to hand under Leatherneck's watchful eye and the next I am being physically restrained by the big Marine, watching as Jaye's expression went from fear and shock to...to concern.
Oh Allie...I could have killed you and all I saw in your eyes was concern. You deserve so much better than an animal like me...
...A wounded animal.
Wounded...how appropriate. That is exactly what I am; a wounded animal...and I have become as unpredictable as one as well. Duke's words triggered something in me, something I keep buried so deep that it rarely sees the light of day, and as it emerged I felt my anger rise so quickly that it overwhelmed all my defenses...breaking through them like a tidal wave through a toothpick.
It couldn't have lasted more than a minute...I don't know for sure, it was all a blur of darkness, a haze of rage and fleeting images from the past...but it might as well have been a lifetime for the damage I could have done had someone not been there to stop me...had her voice not broken through the fog.
As it was, I can still see the expressions of shock and disbelief on the faces of my teammates as I slowly grabbed hold of myself.
It was just too much.
I ran.
So here I am, sitting on the hood of my car on a remote mountain road far from the base, far from anywhere...staring out at the beautiful desert landscape laid out before me... quoting Nietzsche...and feeling thoroughly miserable.
Damn you Duke...you had to say those words...you had to pull the trigger!
No...that's unfair. I should be able to control myself. Regardless of what is said or done, I shouldn't have snapped.
'Man who man would be, must rule the empire of himself'
Ever since I could understand the words I have been taught that a gentleman never EVER raises a hand to a woman. You never, ever use your physical strength to overpower or force yourself on a woman...no matter WHAT the circumstances.
Now I've done it twice...TWICE!
I wasn't always this way...this angry...this...this...out of control. I am a soldier, violence is my business, but you learn to turn it off. You have to or there would be an army of psychopaths in uniform roaming the streets!
No. I mean...I was always a bit moody...dark and brooding at times...but mostly just a big mouthed egoist with something to prove and a taste for fun.
Then I met Karen and everything changed forever...
I suppose I should get this out on paper. Those who knew me back then have some idea as to what happened...but only two people know the whole sordid tale...Conrad and Marvin...and only because they were there.
Karen is...was...my wife.
Yeah...I was married before. This was a long time before I joined Joe...it's been almost ten years since we split...ten years since my heart was torn from my chest and battered against the floor.
Dramatic, eh?
You don't know the half of it.
I met her around the time I was wrapping up basic and started my military career in earnest. I had already caught the eye of several of the top brass and had been stationed in California under one of the toughest...and the best...teams the army had. The field commander was one Sergeant Conrad 'Duke' Hauser, and I was one of the promising new recruits he was sent to work with.
Because Duke's team saw more 'action' than most in those days, when the academics at Berkley started spreading word of a project they were conducting...a study on post-traumatic stress disorder and the effects of combat on the mental health of US soldiers...the powers that be pointed them in our direction.
All of us were ordered to spend a few sessions with the graduate students helping on the project, and of course I joked about it. Even then, I hated sitting with the shrinks...found it a waste of time. In fact, had I not been ordered to I probably would have skipped the whole thing.
I wonder sometimes what my life would be like today if I had done just that.
In any case, I walked into the makeshift office and there, sitting before me...was the woman of my dreams...a beautiful blonde haired, blue-eyed California girl with a shy smile and a quick wit. She was intelligent, soft spoken, and had a great sense of humor. From the moment I saw her I was smitten.
Although she tried to get the meeting on track I could tell I was too much for her. Mind you, she seemed amused by my antics and playful banter during the session. So much so that she accepted my invitation to dinner that very evening.
What ensued was a whirlwind romance. I was completely taken by her...she became my world. It was the first time I had been that crazy about a girl in my life! I spent all my extra time with Karen...every minute I could spare from my extensive and rigorous duties.
Before I knew it I was asking her to marry me.
That was a mere 6 months into our relationship...and the wedding took place a heart-stopping two weeks later in a small church on the base. Our families were surprised to say the least...and neither was happy about the rush.
I just couldn't help myself...we were in love...
God...how young I was...how STUPID.
We were together for a little over two years before it all ended as quickly and dramatically as it had begun.
It's hard not to look back at the whole thing with bitterness, unconsciously coloring my memories of the past with the taint of the future. Truth be told, it wasn't a bad marriage...at least I didn't think so. I was happy...I really was. We had some good times together, and for all I knew then I had found the woman I was going to spend the rest of my life with.
It wasn't perfect...but what relationship is? I used to drive Karen up the wall with my antics, always avoiding the deep subjects. She just loved to psychoanalyze me, and I was never one to share my innermost thoughts...the combination proved to be a sticking point for us. I used to dread when she began to harp about me not 'talking to her about how I feel'.
Then there was the issue of my job.
I don't think Karen really understood what kinds of sacrifices are required of military wives when she married me. To be fair, I didn't really give her much time to think about anything, dragging her to the altar so fast. How well did we really know each other? What did we know about the other's life...family...career...quirks...after only 6 months?
She didn't come from a military family like I did...she had no idea of the hardships involved. Long periods spent alone while I was on a mission, the moving around, and the constant threat that your husband might be injured, or worse yet, killed in the line of duty. It isn't easy, that's for sure...and my commitments and duties were worse than most.
It all came to a head when I told her that my unit was being relocated to the east coast...that we would have to move to North Carolina. She didn't like it one bit...and started in on me about leaving the forces and doing something else with my life.
You know...I considered it...I seriously did. In fact, the night that 'it' happened I had pretty much made my decision. She was my wife after all...and I loved her and wanted a family with her. It was a small sacrifice to make.
Thank God I never had the chance to hand in my resignation.
People say that you should have seen it coming, that these types of things don't just 'happen'...that you should have read the signs. They say that if you had only been more aware of what the other was feeling, more sympathetic...less selfish...that it could have been avoided.
I can't tell you how many nights I lay in bed and thought back on our life together and wondered what it was I did wrong. What could I possibly have handled differently? Could anything I have said or done changed things? Maybe, maybe not...the only thing I know is that she killed a part of me that night.
Killed it but good.
I was supposed to be away on a mission. Actually, I was on a mission, but it had ended very badly...one of the worse we had ever been sent on...a complete fuck up from the get go. None of the information we had been fed by the CIA was correct and I barely made it out of there alive.
We arrived back at base early, shaken and angry at the way things had turned out. All of us were exhausted...and I for one was still a bit shaken. All I wanted to do was get home and see my wife, and seeing the tired look on my face Duke offered to give me a lift home. I was in no shape to drive.
I said goodnight to Duke, walked quietly into the house so as not to wake her, slowly opened the bedroom door and there...
there...
Come on...just SAY it, damn it!
She was 'with' another man. 'With'...as in buck naked and going at it like bloody bunnies on viagra. And not just any other man...not with a stranger...but with one of my close friends from childhood...a guy I trusted with my life...the CIA agent who had sent us on the suicide run...
Devon Greer.
All I remember is the rage...the hurt...the anger burning hot inside me...but I didn't black out. No. I knew exactly what I was doing when I grabbed Devon off my wife and slammed him against a wall. I knew exactly what was happening when I beat him to a very inch of his life.
I would have killed him too...killed him with my bare hands...had Duke not pulled me off. Karen, who had been screeching the whole time, begging me to stop, had gotten on the phone and called the first person she could think.
Thank God for Devon that Duke was just around the corner...as it was the man was in a hospital recovering for weeks.
I was confined to quarters on base for a few days. I don't remember much from that time; it was all a haze of pain. I was just waiting for the MPs to come and take me away...my career was over and for all intents and purposes Leavenworth was my next stop...but I didn't care.
I just didn't care.
Duke, however, managed to brush the whole thing under the table. I don't know how he did it, I don't know why he did it...but one day Roadblock opened the door to my 'prison' and gently told me to pull myself together. We were all heading for North Carolina, and we had a mission to prepare for.
I saw Karen once before I left despite Marvin's advice to leave it be, and as usual he was right. If anything the whole thing only served to push the knife in deeper. I had gone over to hear what she had to say...maybe some part of me was hoping that she would fall into my arms and beg my forgiveness...that it was an act of desperation...that we could get through this together...
Instead...she told me that I was a monster...a killer. That she was afraid of me...
That she didn't love me anymore...that she hadn't in a while.
That maybe she never did...
Every word was like a dagger...every moment agony.
I turned around and walked out without a word...and I never looked back.
I found out later that she had been seeing Devon for over 6 months behind my back, and I never knew.
I found out later that Devon had purposely sent me on that disastrous mission...hoping that I wouldn't come back. In fact, it was this very fact that kept me out of the brig and rescued my career. Duke was suspicious and decided to do a little sniffing around. When this came to light the Sergeant used it to blackmail Greer into dropping the charges against me. Had the CIA found out about his little 'plan'...that he had risked the lives of US soldiers on a personal vendetta...his career...his life would have been as over as mine.
So it was a draw...we both went our separate ways. He ended up with Karen though. I guess I should take some small comfort in knowing that she had nothing to do with his little scheme...to this day I don't think she has any idea what her new lover had pulled.
As for myself...I never spoke of it again. Not to Roadblock, not to Duke...not to my family...not to anyone. It was difficult at first...I tried to stay busy with work in order to keep my mind occupied, but the minute I was alone in my room the pain came back...the terrible feeling of loss and betrayal. Over time, though, I managed to shove it all down so deep that I would never have to deal with it.
It just hurt too much.
And therein lies the problem. I never really dealt with it. Instead I let it sit and fester inside...and every so often it come out in a black rage that I cannot seem to control.
Like today...when Duke commented innocently about the 'great and manly Flint Faireborn being bested by a woman'. How could he have remembered he used those exact words so many years ago to break me out of my black mood days after I had left Karen.
Like Sierra Gordo...when Alison managed to push every button and bring it all back in a rush.
Both times Allie has born the brunt of my pain...and still she looks at me with those eyes...those bright, clear, beautiful green eyes...and all I see inside them is...love. She loves me...the foolish woman.
Don't you know I don't deserve it? All I will ever do is hurt you...
And you can only end up hurting me...
Christ!
Listen to yourself, Faireborn! What did Duke say to you last time you ended up out here alone?..that I was "sulking like some pussy-whipped, shrink-hugging, tantrum-throwing, cowardly, stupid ass therapy case".
Did I mention that Conrad wasn't one to mince words?
He was right though...he was right then and he is right now. It's time for me to get my act together.
I have too much to lose if I don't...
"He who fights with monsters might take care lest he thereby become a monster. And if you gaze to long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also at you."
That's what I am...what I have become...a monster. Worse, a Jekyll and Hyde knock off whose moods are as volatile and frightening as the character created by Robert Louis Stephenson so long ago.
What have I done?
God...what have I done?
One minute, I was in a friendly sparing match with Lady Jaye...practicing our hand to hand under Leatherneck's watchful eye and the next I am being physically restrained by the big Marine, watching as Jaye's expression went from fear and shock to...to concern.
Oh Allie...I could have killed you and all I saw in your eyes was concern. You deserve so much better than an animal like me...
...A wounded animal.
Wounded...how appropriate. That is exactly what I am; a wounded animal...and I have become as unpredictable as one as well. Duke's words triggered something in me, something I keep buried so deep that it rarely sees the light of day, and as it emerged I felt my anger rise so quickly that it overwhelmed all my defenses...breaking through them like a tidal wave through a toothpick.
It couldn't have lasted more than a minute...I don't know for sure, it was all a blur of darkness, a haze of rage and fleeting images from the past...but it might as well have been a lifetime for the damage I could have done had someone not been there to stop me...had her voice not broken through the fog.
As it was, I can still see the expressions of shock and disbelief on the faces of my teammates as I slowly grabbed hold of myself.
It was just too much.
I ran.
So here I am, sitting on the hood of my car on a remote mountain road far from the base, far from anywhere...staring out at the beautiful desert landscape laid out before me... quoting Nietzsche...and feeling thoroughly miserable.
Damn you Duke...you had to say those words...you had to pull the trigger!
No...that's unfair. I should be able to control myself. Regardless of what is said or done, I shouldn't have snapped.
'Man who man would be, must rule the empire of himself'
Ever since I could understand the words I have been taught that a gentleman never EVER raises a hand to a woman. You never, ever use your physical strength to overpower or force yourself on a woman...no matter WHAT the circumstances.
Now I've done it twice...TWICE!
I wasn't always this way...this angry...this...this...out of control. I am a soldier, violence is my business, but you learn to turn it off. You have to or there would be an army of psychopaths in uniform roaming the streets!
No. I mean...I was always a bit moody...dark and brooding at times...but mostly just a big mouthed egoist with something to prove and a taste for fun.
Then I met Karen and everything changed forever...
I suppose I should get this out on paper. Those who knew me back then have some idea as to what happened...but only two people know the whole sordid tale...Conrad and Marvin...and only because they were there.
Karen is...was...my wife.
Yeah...I was married before. This was a long time before I joined Joe...it's been almost ten years since we split...ten years since my heart was torn from my chest and battered against the floor.
Dramatic, eh?
You don't know the half of it.
I met her around the time I was wrapping up basic and started my military career in earnest. I had already caught the eye of several of the top brass and had been stationed in California under one of the toughest...and the best...teams the army had. The field commander was one Sergeant Conrad 'Duke' Hauser, and I was one of the promising new recruits he was sent to work with.
Because Duke's team saw more 'action' than most in those days, when the academics at Berkley started spreading word of a project they were conducting...a study on post-traumatic stress disorder and the effects of combat on the mental health of US soldiers...the powers that be pointed them in our direction.
All of us were ordered to spend a few sessions with the graduate students helping on the project, and of course I joked about it. Even then, I hated sitting with the shrinks...found it a waste of time. In fact, had I not been ordered to I probably would have skipped the whole thing.
I wonder sometimes what my life would be like today if I had done just that.
In any case, I walked into the makeshift office and there, sitting before me...was the woman of my dreams...a beautiful blonde haired, blue-eyed California girl with a shy smile and a quick wit. She was intelligent, soft spoken, and had a great sense of humor. From the moment I saw her I was smitten.
Although she tried to get the meeting on track I could tell I was too much for her. Mind you, she seemed amused by my antics and playful banter during the session. So much so that she accepted my invitation to dinner that very evening.
What ensued was a whirlwind romance. I was completely taken by her...she became my world. It was the first time I had been that crazy about a girl in my life! I spent all my extra time with Karen...every minute I could spare from my extensive and rigorous duties.
Before I knew it I was asking her to marry me.
That was a mere 6 months into our relationship...and the wedding took place a heart-stopping two weeks later in a small church on the base. Our families were surprised to say the least...and neither was happy about the rush.
I just couldn't help myself...we were in love...
God...how young I was...how STUPID.
We were together for a little over two years before it all ended as quickly and dramatically as it had begun.
It's hard not to look back at the whole thing with bitterness, unconsciously coloring my memories of the past with the taint of the future. Truth be told, it wasn't a bad marriage...at least I didn't think so. I was happy...I really was. We had some good times together, and for all I knew then I had found the woman I was going to spend the rest of my life with.
It wasn't perfect...but what relationship is? I used to drive Karen up the wall with my antics, always avoiding the deep subjects. She just loved to psychoanalyze me, and I was never one to share my innermost thoughts...the combination proved to be a sticking point for us. I used to dread when she began to harp about me not 'talking to her about how I feel'.
Then there was the issue of my job.
I don't think Karen really understood what kinds of sacrifices are required of military wives when she married me. To be fair, I didn't really give her much time to think about anything, dragging her to the altar so fast. How well did we really know each other? What did we know about the other's life...family...career...quirks...after only 6 months?
She didn't come from a military family like I did...she had no idea of the hardships involved. Long periods spent alone while I was on a mission, the moving around, and the constant threat that your husband might be injured, or worse yet, killed in the line of duty. It isn't easy, that's for sure...and my commitments and duties were worse than most.
It all came to a head when I told her that my unit was being relocated to the east coast...that we would have to move to North Carolina. She didn't like it one bit...and started in on me about leaving the forces and doing something else with my life.
You know...I considered it...I seriously did. In fact, the night that 'it' happened I had pretty much made my decision. She was my wife after all...and I loved her and wanted a family with her. It was a small sacrifice to make.
Thank God I never had the chance to hand in my resignation.
People say that you should have seen it coming, that these types of things don't just 'happen'...that you should have read the signs. They say that if you had only been more aware of what the other was feeling, more sympathetic...less selfish...that it could have been avoided.
I can't tell you how many nights I lay in bed and thought back on our life together and wondered what it was I did wrong. What could I possibly have handled differently? Could anything I have said or done changed things? Maybe, maybe not...the only thing I know is that she killed a part of me that night.
Killed it but good.
I was supposed to be away on a mission. Actually, I was on a mission, but it had ended very badly...one of the worse we had ever been sent on...a complete fuck up from the get go. None of the information we had been fed by the CIA was correct and I barely made it out of there alive.
We arrived back at base early, shaken and angry at the way things had turned out. All of us were exhausted...and I for one was still a bit shaken. All I wanted to do was get home and see my wife, and seeing the tired look on my face Duke offered to give me a lift home. I was in no shape to drive.
I said goodnight to Duke, walked quietly into the house so as not to wake her, slowly opened the bedroom door and there...
there...
Come on...just SAY it, damn it!
She was 'with' another man. 'With'...as in buck naked and going at it like bloody bunnies on viagra. And not just any other man...not with a stranger...but with one of my close friends from childhood...a guy I trusted with my life...the CIA agent who had sent us on the suicide run...
Devon Greer.
All I remember is the rage...the hurt...the anger burning hot inside me...but I didn't black out. No. I knew exactly what I was doing when I grabbed Devon off my wife and slammed him against a wall. I knew exactly what was happening when I beat him to a very inch of his life.
I would have killed him too...killed him with my bare hands...had Duke not pulled me off. Karen, who had been screeching the whole time, begging me to stop, had gotten on the phone and called the first person she could think.
Thank God for Devon that Duke was just around the corner...as it was the man was in a hospital recovering for weeks.
I was confined to quarters on base for a few days. I don't remember much from that time; it was all a haze of pain. I was just waiting for the MPs to come and take me away...my career was over and for all intents and purposes Leavenworth was my next stop...but I didn't care.
I just didn't care.
Duke, however, managed to brush the whole thing under the table. I don't know how he did it, I don't know why he did it...but one day Roadblock opened the door to my 'prison' and gently told me to pull myself together. We were all heading for North Carolina, and we had a mission to prepare for.
I saw Karen once before I left despite Marvin's advice to leave it be, and as usual he was right. If anything the whole thing only served to push the knife in deeper. I had gone over to hear what she had to say...maybe some part of me was hoping that she would fall into my arms and beg my forgiveness...that it was an act of desperation...that we could get through this together...
Instead...she told me that I was a monster...a killer. That she was afraid of me...
That she didn't love me anymore...that she hadn't in a while.
That maybe she never did...
Every word was like a dagger...every moment agony.
I turned around and walked out without a word...and I never looked back.
I found out later that she had been seeing Devon for over 6 months behind my back, and I never knew.
I found out later that Devon had purposely sent me on that disastrous mission...hoping that I wouldn't come back. In fact, it was this very fact that kept me out of the brig and rescued my career. Duke was suspicious and decided to do a little sniffing around. When this came to light the Sergeant used it to blackmail Greer into dropping the charges against me. Had the CIA found out about his little 'plan'...that he had risked the lives of US soldiers on a personal vendetta...his career...his life would have been as over as mine.
So it was a draw...we both went our separate ways. He ended up with Karen though. I guess I should take some small comfort in knowing that she had nothing to do with his little scheme...to this day I don't think she has any idea what her new lover had pulled.
As for myself...I never spoke of it again. Not to Roadblock, not to Duke...not to my family...not to anyone. It was difficult at first...I tried to stay busy with work in order to keep my mind occupied, but the minute I was alone in my room the pain came back...the terrible feeling of loss and betrayal. Over time, though, I managed to shove it all down so deep that I would never have to deal with it.
It just hurt too much.
And therein lies the problem. I never really dealt with it. Instead I let it sit and fester inside...and every so often it come out in a black rage that I cannot seem to control.
Like today...when Duke commented innocently about the 'great and manly Flint Faireborn being bested by a woman'. How could he have remembered he used those exact words so many years ago to break me out of my black mood days after I had left Karen.
Like Sierra Gordo...when Alison managed to push every button and bring it all back in a rush.
Both times Allie has born the brunt of my pain...and still she looks at me with those eyes...those bright, clear, beautiful green eyes...and all I see inside them is...love. She loves me...the foolish woman.
Don't you know I don't deserve it? All I will ever do is hurt you...
And you can only end up hurting me...
Christ!
Listen to yourself, Faireborn! What did Duke say to you last time you ended up out here alone?..that I was "sulking like some pussy-whipped, shrink-hugging, tantrum-throwing, cowardly, stupid ass therapy case".
Did I mention that Conrad wasn't one to mince words?
He was right though...he was right then and he is right now. It's time for me to get my act together.
I have too much to lose if I don't...