She suggested we get a joint bank account three months after our first date. I was hesitant...I told her that it was too soon. Before she abruptly hung up from the Facetime Video she said, "You aren't ready to be in a relationship." I was in my apartment 87 miles away. Being me, not wanting to argue, I did not call back...for 6 days. She texted me the morning of the 7th day and asked if I was interested in talking. I was...because I loved her despite the sinking feeling that her idiosyncrasies were actually deal breakers for me. And...I had realized on day 3, I had left my deceased father's wristwatch and my XBOX in her living room on my last visit. In month four I was trying to get in touch with my daughter, and opined about her current living arrangements. Later that evening we argued about something trivial and our argument jumped the chasm from the immediate subject, to how she was not going to be party for me to chase after my "second fatherhood". She said that she was not content to be number four on my list. (Mom, Sister, Daughter, girlfriend). She was angry because my 19 year old daughter was terrible about returning calls or texts...unless she needed money from me. The building my girlfriend lived in was being sold and she indirectly asked about moving in with me...I was welcoming. I helped her move. What would not fit in my apartment, I rented a storage unit for. I was happy. The apartment was nice...on the inside...but it was in the hood. Loud folks, trash, and there were legit issues. She became nervous...it was palpable. She did not like her job that was still 87 miles away...even though she could work most of it remotely. So she got a new job....for four days...and quit because of the same negative energy she said she was receiving from my mother and my sister who told me they adored her. We got a new place, a house. Double the price, double the utilities, and she contributed nothing to any of this. I asked her about her bills and savings and she told me that her personal bills were about $500 a month. I carried her...and perhaps I felt empowered. I told myself I was not. One day she says that my daughter cannot be at the house unless she was there. I asked why? I asked what's the end game? She couldn't answer, spoke in vague generalities and was indignant that I told her, "If that's how you feel, then we may have a damn problem...my daughter will never have anyone or anything that gets in the way of her coming to me." She said nothing. We didn't talk because I was happy there was no follow on. There was no violence received from anyone as I had experienced before. So we moved on. There were many times we should have spoken. We did not. We went to a couple's counselor and she was angry because I spoke freely. Finally, it came to a head, she is packing and getting ready to move. And here I am again. I think that this is it for me.
Being an Officer...a Black one.....is sometimes hard. [Howard Rollins from "A Soldier's Story"] Sometimes being an Officer is difficult....not because of hard tasks, short timelines, or all of the worries involved in the care of your Soldier's, but the aura of professionalism and objectivity that you must display at all times. There have been many times that I have wanted to make a comment, yell, cuss at someone, or otherwise let my personal feelings be known about a subject, but unfortunately I could not because of my position. Let me tell you about two incidents that bothered me in particular. I was in Dallas Ft. Worth airport waiting to catch a flight on the last leg of my TDY trip to help a returning unit at Ft. Sill. As I went to my gate, I saw 4 Sailors in their black uniforms gathered at the gate...one was large and white, the other three were black. There was very little room, and many of them were standing intermingled with civilian airline passengers
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