witty kitten
02-06-2010, 10:00 AM
A SOLDIER IN LOVE
Eighteen and a half years in the army, which meant that I had lived and served as a soldier for approximately five thousand, nine hundred and fifty-two days, and had tasted every flavor that life could offer. As fate would have it, I never served during war and was spared the daily face of death and suffering on the battlefield. I did not have to live in constant fear that at any pre-destined moment, bullets could visit my body and leave their traces, reducing my life to existence as an invalid.
Even so, Army life, with its strict discipline and obligations, turned me into another soldier, and voluntary and half forced, on a no less severe battlefield, in a struggle against loneliness. Endless marches and frequent transfers from one base to another comprised my mobile life, to which no woman who hoped to gain stable happiness would risk attaching her face. What was more, I was a soldier with a sensitive and romantic heart inside a calm shell and a coarse uniform. I cherish every happy minute on the rocky road that I had chosen, but my circumstances yielded only passing loves and fleeting pleasures during occasional stops while what I needed was certainly more than shallow relationships and temporary gratification. Very often when I went on duty during silent, moonless nights, I could perceive very well a biting loneliness in my restless heart. It was the same feeling I had when I was left behind in a unit cut off from its base, and in those extremely isolated moments, I longed for the comfortable arms and gentle voice of a sympathetic woman. My heart called loudly, but still, love did not respond. My shoulders, overloaded with guns and ammunition, were burdened even more by a constant longing for the happiness of an ordinary family life, a happiness which eluded me, while the years continued to slip away. I had been trying hard to go on, and to persevere, but now I thought it was finally time to set down my full pack for a while to travel light on the road ahead. I decided to take a vacation in a faraway land, seeking, hopefully, a change for the better, or at least some peace of mind.
I was born with two bloods flowing in my veins. My father is American and my mother is Vietnamese, so my personality is a harmonious combination of two cultures, which I always take as a precious gift from God. My American half always urges me to strive for the best, to compete hard to succeed in what I do, whereas the Vietnamese half leads me to a peaceful life with serious views, a profound love for the beauty, and an absolute confidence in the inherent goodness of man. Time and experience have molded me into a deep thinker, seeking both inwardly and outwardly in a tireless quest to see and understand the depth and height of human hearts and minds. That is why, this time, I decided to leave all the hustle and bustle behind to visit an Asian country, in the hopes of finding love, inner peace and deep understanding.
I stepped into a small tropical country, and the burning heat of summer awakened the enthusiasm and adventurous instinct inside me. I strolled about and asked around, trying to approach a new and interesting culture. I took the chance to talk with the local people, and found them to be very friendly and hospitable. I went on and on, without knowing that an important turning point in my life was there, around the corner, on a leafy street…
In time, a girl suddenly appeared, just when I needed help to get some necessary information. She was no more special than thousands of other girls I had met here and there, except for her unexpected kindness and sincere willingness to help. Just as suddenly she was gone, leaving me with an appreciation for the hospitality of the people, and, quite unexpectedly a note with her address in case I was in need. But things did not end there, or more exactly, things began the moment she smiled and waved goodbye before disappearing into a throng of passers-by.
I stood rooted to the ground, looking in her direction and felt something stirring in my heart. I then heard a vague call from somewhere deep in my subconscious. That initial call grew stronger and stronger, and I was chilled to the bone by the realization that this kind and good-looking girl had slipped out of my life forever, like a passing breeze, and was now merely a fading visage. I looked in my hand and uttered a deep sigh of relief – her address was still there. A sensation of warmth took possession of me and I held the note tightly. My mind was made up.
I found her there at the doorstep. With a bright smile and friendly eyes, she gave me a warm welcome and a feeling that my wandering soul had found a resting place. There were no more geographical or language barriers and no more cultural gap between us. Beside her, I felt the freedom to be myself, even still in this strange land. I was amazed to find that she was a real communicator. She could read my thoughts and understand my aspirations through non-verbal communication. Looking into her trustworthy eyes, I did not hesitate to open my heart and confide my secrets to her. I could not understand why I, a seasoned soldier of forty years, could find great sympathy and understanding in an eastern girl fifteen years my junior. I felt in calm water – so deep, so tranquil and so relaxing. Once again, I felt a flame burning strongly in my romantic heart, and could say with certainty that it could never turn to ashes and die like before, for it was an eternal flame.
While I was truly lost in that lightning-fast love, she seemed to me just a friend, or at least that was what she tried to convey. She told me about her personal relationships, and discussed her would-be husband on several occasions. Here stories were sharp thorns piercing my aching heart, leaving a wound that I knew could only be healed by her love. Then, at the brink of desperation, my soul whispered: “Look in her eyes and you will find…” I followed that subconscious call and caught sight of the occasional distant look in her beautiful and lonely eyes. I gained more and more confidence when, now and again, she abruptly ended her stories and appeared lost in deep thought. I came to the hesitating conclusion that all was not lost, and that she was still searching, her heart undecided. Her heart could still be won.
I returned home with full pack again. The fond memories of a beautiful land and especially the crystal-clear image of a delicate yet very strong girl made the feet of a light traveler feel heavy. I knew I was a latecomer, standing alone at the station after the train of love had already departed, but my American had urged me to speed up to catch the train. In a race, if a runner knows that he will win, or at least tie, he can not give up.
Before I had the chance to put my thoughts into action, I met my girl again, in a dream, or more exactly, a nightmare. She stood alone, on the far side of a threatening chasm which I could not leap across, with sad eyes and tearful face, looking painfully at me. In the chasm were her parents and her would-be husband, my past girlfriends and every version of myself, after numerous love affairs over fifteen years. Each person shouted wildly, and furiously dug the chasm wider and wider, despite our desperate cries for them to stop and have mercy.
In such a desperate plight, my Vietnamese half, the half of my mother, raised its soft, profound voice to show me away out. It told me to wait until her heart beat steadily, her mind was clear, her gaze fixed, and her feet were steady and sure on the right path. It told me that true love can never be rushed, and that the best comes only to those who are patient, understanding and appreciative. The same voice also told me tom journey back, which also meant to journey within. I searched my heart and mind, struggling to make the correct decision. It was when I saw her again, with a bright smile and friendly eyes, trying to throw the end of a colorful rainbow across the chasm to me. The rainbow appeared fragile, yet promising. With all my strength and determination, I reached out, and caught hold of it…
DTDN: [email protected]
Eighteen and a half years in the army, which meant that I had lived and served as a soldier for approximately five thousand, nine hundred and fifty-two days, and had tasted every flavor that life could offer. As fate would have it, I never served during war and was spared the daily face of death and suffering on the battlefield. I did not have to live in constant fear that at any pre-destined moment, bullets could visit my body and leave their traces, reducing my life to existence as an invalid.
Even so, Army life, with its strict discipline and obligations, turned me into another soldier, and voluntary and half forced, on a no less severe battlefield, in a struggle against loneliness. Endless marches and frequent transfers from one base to another comprised my mobile life, to which no woman who hoped to gain stable happiness would risk attaching her face. What was more, I was a soldier with a sensitive and romantic heart inside a calm shell and a coarse uniform. I cherish every happy minute on the rocky road that I had chosen, but my circumstances yielded only passing loves and fleeting pleasures during occasional stops while what I needed was certainly more than shallow relationships and temporary gratification. Very often when I went on duty during silent, moonless nights, I could perceive very well a biting loneliness in my restless heart. It was the same feeling I had when I was left behind in a unit cut off from its base, and in those extremely isolated moments, I longed for the comfortable arms and gentle voice of a sympathetic woman. My heart called loudly, but still, love did not respond. My shoulders, overloaded with guns and ammunition, were burdened even more by a constant longing for the happiness of an ordinary family life, a happiness which eluded me, while the years continued to slip away. I had been trying hard to go on, and to persevere, but now I thought it was finally time to set down my full pack for a while to travel light on the road ahead. I decided to take a vacation in a faraway land, seeking, hopefully, a change for the better, or at least some peace of mind.
I was born with two bloods flowing in my veins. My father is American and my mother is Vietnamese, so my personality is a harmonious combination of two cultures, which I always take as a precious gift from God. My American half always urges me to strive for the best, to compete hard to succeed in what I do, whereas the Vietnamese half leads me to a peaceful life with serious views, a profound love for the beauty, and an absolute confidence in the inherent goodness of man. Time and experience have molded me into a deep thinker, seeking both inwardly and outwardly in a tireless quest to see and understand the depth and height of human hearts and minds. That is why, this time, I decided to leave all the hustle and bustle behind to visit an Asian country, in the hopes of finding love, inner peace and deep understanding.
I stepped into a small tropical country, and the burning heat of summer awakened the enthusiasm and adventurous instinct inside me. I strolled about and asked around, trying to approach a new and interesting culture. I took the chance to talk with the local people, and found them to be very friendly and hospitable. I went on and on, without knowing that an important turning point in my life was there, around the corner, on a leafy street…
In time, a girl suddenly appeared, just when I needed help to get some necessary information. She was no more special than thousands of other girls I had met here and there, except for her unexpected kindness and sincere willingness to help. Just as suddenly she was gone, leaving me with an appreciation for the hospitality of the people, and, quite unexpectedly a note with her address in case I was in need. But things did not end there, or more exactly, things began the moment she smiled and waved goodbye before disappearing into a throng of passers-by.
I stood rooted to the ground, looking in her direction and felt something stirring in my heart. I then heard a vague call from somewhere deep in my subconscious. That initial call grew stronger and stronger, and I was chilled to the bone by the realization that this kind and good-looking girl had slipped out of my life forever, like a passing breeze, and was now merely a fading visage. I looked in my hand and uttered a deep sigh of relief – her address was still there. A sensation of warmth took possession of me and I held the note tightly. My mind was made up.
I found her there at the doorstep. With a bright smile and friendly eyes, she gave me a warm welcome and a feeling that my wandering soul had found a resting place. There were no more geographical or language barriers and no more cultural gap between us. Beside her, I felt the freedom to be myself, even still in this strange land. I was amazed to find that she was a real communicator. She could read my thoughts and understand my aspirations through non-verbal communication. Looking into her trustworthy eyes, I did not hesitate to open my heart and confide my secrets to her. I could not understand why I, a seasoned soldier of forty years, could find great sympathy and understanding in an eastern girl fifteen years my junior. I felt in calm water – so deep, so tranquil and so relaxing. Once again, I felt a flame burning strongly in my romantic heart, and could say with certainty that it could never turn to ashes and die like before, for it was an eternal flame.
While I was truly lost in that lightning-fast love, she seemed to me just a friend, or at least that was what she tried to convey. She told me about her personal relationships, and discussed her would-be husband on several occasions. Here stories were sharp thorns piercing my aching heart, leaving a wound that I knew could only be healed by her love. Then, at the brink of desperation, my soul whispered: “Look in her eyes and you will find…” I followed that subconscious call and caught sight of the occasional distant look in her beautiful and lonely eyes. I gained more and more confidence when, now and again, she abruptly ended her stories and appeared lost in deep thought. I came to the hesitating conclusion that all was not lost, and that she was still searching, her heart undecided. Her heart could still be won.
I returned home with full pack again. The fond memories of a beautiful land and especially the crystal-clear image of a delicate yet very strong girl made the feet of a light traveler feel heavy. I knew I was a latecomer, standing alone at the station after the train of love had already departed, but my American had urged me to speed up to catch the train. In a race, if a runner knows that he will win, or at least tie, he can not give up.
Before I had the chance to put my thoughts into action, I met my girl again, in a dream, or more exactly, a nightmare. She stood alone, on the far side of a threatening chasm which I could not leap across, with sad eyes and tearful face, looking painfully at me. In the chasm were her parents and her would-be husband, my past girlfriends and every version of myself, after numerous love affairs over fifteen years. Each person shouted wildly, and furiously dug the chasm wider and wider, despite our desperate cries for them to stop and have mercy.
In such a desperate plight, my Vietnamese half, the half of my mother, raised its soft, profound voice to show me away out. It told me to wait until her heart beat steadily, her mind was clear, her gaze fixed, and her feet were steady and sure on the right path. It told me that true love can never be rushed, and that the best comes only to those who are patient, understanding and appreciative. The same voice also told me tom journey back, which also meant to journey within. I searched my heart and mind, struggling to make the correct decision. It was when I saw her again, with a bright smile and friendly eyes, trying to throw the end of a colorful rainbow across the chasm to me. The rainbow appeared fragile, yet promising. With all my strength and determination, I reached out, and caught hold of it…
DTDN: [email protected]