Decisions Arising

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As the new year comes around, I realize how close it is to March.  I can’t remember if I’ve mentioned this before, and if I have it’s been a while anyways, but I am eligible to reenlist in the Army in March.  For the past month, I thought I had made my decision and decided that the Army was not for me.  But, as the date gets closer and closer I find myself thinking about it more and more.  If I could just get a few health things worked out (*ahemloseweightahem*) and maybe a temp living situation in Amarillo, I could easily do it.

But, I have reservations about it, of course.  It seems like anything I decide I have reservations about.  Including which socks I should wear.  No lie people.  I think I’m really scared that something will happen like last time and I won’t have a place to go again.  I don’t want to end up stuck in Amarillo.  Especially not Canyon.  And… well, that’s basically all my reservations right there.  I’m scared.

I have looked into college while I’ve been in Dallas.  At one point, I was actually going to go except for the whole meningitis-shot-being-a-whole-lot-of-money-I-don’t-have-because-I’m-not-married-to-Miles-Austin-yet thing.  And I decided that I didn’t want to.

Oh, I just thought of something.  We’re moving into apartments where not all of the adults can be full-time students.  Both of my parents are full-time students.  Crap.

But, ignoring the facts that basically just made my decision for me, I really enjoyed being around the other future soldiers and my sergeants (some were just good to look at).  I loved learning all the lingo and traditions and how to march and turn and all the commands.  I loved hearing about boot camp and stations and forts.  I loved the history.  I loved just walking into the station and hearing a loud chorus of, “Heyyyy… It’s Private LOW-ry.  Hu-up!!!”  We could insult each other and still respect each other.  My sergeant could look me in the eye and say, “You’re wrong.  You screwed up.  I’m right.”  And I would love that they could do that so confidently and be willing to explain why.  Only once was I ever yelled at, and I didn’t even mind because I knew I deserved it.  We covered each other; we partied together; we helped each other; we shot each other with nerf guns; we played ulitmate frisbee together; we ran together, went to a rodeo together, got called persistent-assholes together for our recruiting efforts…. I have never felt so  … … … at home.  Peaceable.

Sure, I know boot camp is hard.  Grueling.  They get in your face.  And I wanted it.  Yeah, it’s not all fun and games.  Your purpose is to protect America.  People die.  But, honestly, I wouldn’t mind dying around those people.  I wouldn’t mind dying with those people as my family.  Surrounded by the people who made the same commitment as me.  Even the people I couldn’t stand, I could respect.  And it went both ways.

I’m starting to think the timing was all wrong.  I just wasn’t mature enough to handle it in high school/right after I graduated.  I’m ready now to do what it takes though.  And I know I can.  A part of me has to, whether I enlist or not.  A part of me itches to go outside and run, time my pushups, learn the history.  I need to know I can do it.  I need to know that I can walk into that station in March and look my Captain in the eye and say, “I was wrong.  I screwed up.  But now I’ve fixed it, and I’m ready to go.”  To feel that companionship and pride and stability and adventure of being a part of the United States Army.


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