Loves Tragic hate Story.....

As my birthday nears, I can’t help but to think about what that means, celebrating my birth 36 years ago. I’ve done a lot in my life, seen more and done more then most, given my all to every thing, loved completely and truthfully. Yet I’m alone, my life though special to me 365 days of the year, is only special to others 1 of those days. Thier are more masks on my birthday then on Halloween. I just want to be special to one person a little every day vs really special to every one for one day.

It causes me to selfreflect, to consider other posibilities. I have regrets, anger, resentment,...demons. Maybe my life is not special to me. Twelve years ago I attempted suicide, and in reflection of that decided that it was a waist, that my life was worth more. Ten years ago filled with self doubt, addicted to drugs and with no direction I joined the Army as an M1 Armor crewmen and was assigned to a heavy combat unit 3d ACR. I did this knowing id deploy, willing to give my life... no wanting to give my life to a cause other then my own, to do something selfless for once.

I got clean, got out of debt, survived war, and lived. Though I lived, i dont think I live, I just continue to survive. Ive lost alot of friends along the way, most not to war but to the demons they bring back with them. Strong men, better men, men that had something to live for, men that i looked up to, mentors. I survive.