Fiction: Someone to Watch Over Me Part 4

*Javier's POV*

((Author's note.. Javier was bugging me, and this had to be put down before I could move on to the rest of the story.. think of this as a Behind the scenes post. haha))

I think I fell in love with Jaxx, pretty much from the first moment we met. I can still remember his scrawny ass, with all that attitude, the first day of basic. He never let nobody tell him anything. He could do everything his self. He never wanted help from anybody, especially no mexican kid like me. I fell in love with that attitude. If you told him he couldn't do something, it just made him try harder.

Mac was the person that brought us all together though. He was the mellow, to Jaxx and I's more high strung natures. Somehow we became inseparable, keeping in contact despite our different schools. Me and Mac, were MP's, so we were together, but we wrote Jaxx letters and he wrote back when we were separated. On our first assignments after training, we were all lucky to be with the same unit. Its almost unheard of, but we sure weren't looking a gift horse in the mouth. 

Over the years, we were all together more than we were separate, but Jaxx and I never crossed that line out of friendship until 2008. Jaxx never explained how he got outed, and why he got separated, but I'm sure that he took the discharge to protect my career. I will always feel guilty for that. I admit too, that I was angry at him for packing up and leaving, although if  he'd have stayed I would have gotten out too. Maybe I should have. I feel like he and I have spent our whole relationship playing what if, and hurry up and wait. All we had were stolen moments, hidden away from the world. In public he was my "buddy". In private, he was everything. He was strong and beautiful, and only he could understand truly the danger of being outed under Don't ask Don't tell.

When DADT was repealed in 2011 and became official, I was already deployed to Afghanistan. Our letters and phone calls were full of plans to move closer together, to have a real relationship, rather than the half-life we'd been living. I never told him I'd changed him to be my next of kin. Most of my family lived in Mexico, and we weren't close. Jaxx was my family. He'd been my family since 1998. He was my reason to come home. Love isn't our problem, its real life and making it work.

Fiction: Someone to Watch Over Me Part 3

Jaxx never made it to Germany. The Commander called and notified him that Javier would be transported to Walter Reed National Military Medical Center as soon as he was stable enough. He'd had to undergo surgery to remove as much of the shrapnel in his torso as possible. Jaxx tried to tune out all the medical knowledge he'd gained over the years. He wasn't a nurse here. He was a loved one waiting for news, just like everyone else. It made it worse to know the medical implications of everything. The flare of hope was dimmed by the suffocation of reality. 

For days, he had plenty of time to think while waiting in the room at the Naval Lodge for Javier to arrive from Germany. He thought of all the things unsaid between him and Javier. All the covert looks, and the steamy emails they sent to each other.Not to mention the “old friend” staying over visits. Over the last 4 years, since he'd left the military, they'd become close. Jaxx knew Javier was IT for him. He was the ONE. Javier wasn't there yet, and with the military being the way that it was, he wasn't sure that Javier would ever be in the same head space. It seemed pretty shitty that he'd have to wait another six years to really be with the man he loved. The man, if he was honest with himself, that he'd been in love with for the last 14 years.He just wanted to see him. He just wanted to tell him how much he meant. He couldn't lose him, not now.

No amount of preparation could have truly prepared him for what met him at the hospital. He barely recognized his friend. Under layers of bandages, Javier's pain glazed eyes blinked up at him. Javier's mouth pulled into a semblance of a smile, despite his obvious discomfort.

“So Jesus, I have to get blown up, for you to visit?”

Jaxx frowned, “Jesus?”

Javier let out a coughing laugh, followed by a groan, “the hair. You look like Jesus. Good thing I'm not closer to dead, that might be enough to send me over.” The talking caused Javier to start coughing again, bringing Jaxx to his side to clasp an undamaged hand. Carefully Jaxx brushed the tears off of Javier's face. “If you wanted to see me, you just had to say so. You didn't have to go to so much trouble to get me here.”

By this time, Jaxx could feel his own tears leaking down his face. He wanted to bury his head in Javier's neck and hold him close, but he couldn't. He feared hurting him. Javier's hand tightened around his. “Shhh. I'm lucky. It will be okay, querido.”

At that moment a nurse came in and pursed her lips at the men. “I'm sorry, sir, but we need to run some tests, so you'll have to leave. May I ask what your relationship to Sgt First Class, Jimenez is?”

Jaxx's back stiffened and he was about to snarl at the nurse when Javier squeezed his hand harder, and said, to both Jaxx and the nurses surprise, “He's my partner. He has my medical power of attorney.” Jaxx lifted an eyebrow at Javier, that indicated they'd be discussing this later. Then he leaned forward and brushed a soft kiss over Javier's battered face, before letting Javier's hand go, and stepping outside the room.

Letting Go.

I originally intended this blog for only my writing. But its difficult to separate the blog writer, from the person.

Who am I?
A year ago I would have told you that I was an Army wife (first and foremost) and a mother. I would have totally left out anything really having to do with ME as a person.

The theme over the last year has been change.
Last February 10th, we buried one of the most important people in my life. My Grandmother. She was such a big part of my life growing up. She taught me a lot about love, and a lot about hate and intolerance. She was Roman Catholic. Strict, but fun too. I used to try to wake up before her, but no matter how early I got up she was already seated at the kitchen table, coffee and cigarette in hand. I remember her painting my nails when I was little, and I remember the two of us sitting across the living room reading when I was in high school. For me, in some respects, she was a safe place to run to. But she didn't care for "niggers". (( I HATE HATE HATE that word, and after an impassioned speech about it she refrained from using it)) She was very intolerant of different, and change, and to a teenager who idolized her grandmother that was absolutely terrifying. I didn't want to disappoint her. I wanted her to be proud of me. Fear of that one thing kept me silent for a long time.

Being a lesbian was unacceptable.

So I dated boys. I "pretended". I was the "good kid". The one who did the right thing most of the time. I told everyone that I was NEVER getting married, and NEVER having children. I was joining the military, and eventually I would be an officer, and that would be my life, and that would be ENOUGH. My senior year, I was voted most likely to become an actress, they didn't know that I already was.

Well due to injury, the Navy didn't work out. By 19, I was living back at home, and an alcoholic. By 20, I'd had enough of living at home, and I married my first husband, who was one of my best friends. He is a great great guy, and I loved him, but not the way that I should have. He was my friend, and I adored him, but not enough to make a life with him. By 23, still an alcoholic, I was divorced and once again living at home with my parents.

Then I met HER. The girl I fell in love with. In the end, she was too afraid to be anything but the "good girl", and for the most part our closet doors stayed intact. The only good thing to come out of it all is that I was done drinking. So at 24, definitely on the rebound, and hearing a lot from my parents and grandmother about getting married and having babies, I met B. B was a little younger than me, had a sweet country boy attitude and looked pretty good in his Army uniform. Soooo innocent. And I thought to myself. I can do THIS. I can make THIS work. (I'm not sure if I was just in denial about myself, or completely out of my effing mind) If I can't be IN the military, I'll marry it.

In 2005, I got pregnant, and then married. I can't say that it was a bad marriage, at least at first. I can even for the most part remember being happy. I'm not sure if I was happy with B, or just in love with being a mom. We went on to have 2 more children. (total 3), and through deployments and moves, cheating (his), and just generally a lot of miserably trying to hold it all together.

Bringing us to 2011. We got the call that my grandmother was dying. My dad, my mother and I  rented a car and headed from Missouri to Texas, in the blizzard that stretched all through Arkansas. When we arrived in Texas, my grandmother had actually seemed to have improved. My mother spent the night with her, and then the next day we all went to see her along with aunts and cousins ect. She had a great day of lucidity, talking about old memories, looking at photos of my children. It was a good day. As we were all leaving, promising to see her the next day, I happened to be the last one out of the room. As I hugged her goodbye, she whispered for me to make Myself happy. To be who I am, regardless of what anyone else thought.  At THAT moment I thought it was a little overdramatic, and I brushed it off. The next morning we arrived at the hospital, and my Grandmother was mid-stroke. Late that night she passed away. She gave me back a piece of myself that I didnt'

A year ago we put her in the ground. A lot has changed, and continues to. My grandmother's words tumbled around in my head for quite awhile before I had the courage to do anything about them. In September, I asked my husband of 6 years for a divorce. I told him why. Amazingly he has been super cool about everything. It has lightened our relationship, because we are no longer burdened with trying to make something so so broken work. The truth was, that no MAN was ever going to make me happy. Even if he were the perfect HUSBAND it still would have fallen apart. Did I love him? Yes. I won't or can't explain how or why or whatever.. but I did love him very much. However, it didn't work out, and life moves on whether we are ready or not. I had come to the conclusion of How was I ever supposed to be happy with someone if I continued to shop the wrong department.

Most of my friends and family members know.. kinda anticlimactic, as most of them claimed they already "knew". Spoilsports. My in-laws do not know. All they know is that when B gets back from Afghanistan, we are divorcing. that is a southern baptist holy-rollercoaster, I don't even want to be there for! So looking forward there are challenges and hurdles to be overcome, not the least of which is the whole new world that my children will find themselves in if I ever DO decide to date. But despite all the challenges ahead, I look forward to being able to BE ME, without having to hide something that is integral to my make up.

CarrieAnn M.

Fiction: Someone to Watch Over Me Part 2

2012

Jaxx raised a hand to the flight crew as he headed off of his 24 hour shift. After getting out of the military, he put his RN certification to use, and decided to pursue the civilian training to do pretty much the same job that he did in the military, a flight nurse. It was a little different on the civilian side, as he seen more pediatric patients then he ever did in the military.

Jaxx reached his jeep and flung his bag into the passenger seat, as he slid his weary body behind the wheel. Now he just had to make it the 25 minute drive home, and he could start his 3 days off. It had been a relatively quiet shift, a few transports, but nothing that was overly involved. He took a minute to rest his head against the steering wheel before poking the keys into the ignition and starting the Jeep. He was just about to pull out of the lot, when his phone started ringing. Not being one to take chances and talk on the phone while driving, he put the jeep back into park, before checking the caller ID. A grin sliced across his face, as he answered the call.

“hey buddy! Hows the mountains treatin ya?”

“Jaxx?” the whispered voice on the phone waivered, as if threatening to crack.

“Mac? What's wrong?” Jaxx was instantly alert, his hand gripping the phone, as if it could connect him with his friend.

Mac took a ragged breath, and said, “We were hit bad. Javier...” Mac's voice broke, and Jaxx could hear his friend struggling for control.

Jaxx closed his eyes, and took a deep breath of his own, knowing that he had to hold it together. The world around him shrunk to the confines of the jeep, everything else faded. “How bad, Mac? He's got to be alive, otherwise you'd be on a blackout. How bad is it?”

Jaxx, reminding him that their friend was still alive seemed to shake Mac out of his grief, “Its bad. An IED hit our convoy. Hit Javier's hum-v. He would have been ok, but once he started pulling guys out, another one detonated near him. He took a lot of shrapnel to his back. I'm not sure if he'll keep his legs. They said as soon as he stablizes they'll send him on to Germany. This is all unofficial, the commander should be calling you soon with official word.”

Jaxx was trying to process everything, but the only thing that proccessed immediately was the last part. “Why the fuck would the Commander be calling me?”

Mac sucked in a breath, “Javier didnt tell you? You are his will as being his next of kin.”

That revelation made Jaxx swallow hard, as he heard a beep signalling he had another incoming call. “I think that might be the Commander now. Um, thanks Mac for calling me and telling me. Keep your head and ass down. Stay safe.”

Mac uttered a quick, “Will do.” and ended the call, freeing Jaxx to answer the incoming call.

“Ajaxx Papalakis, can I help you?”

The Commander quickly introduced himself and went on to explain the situation with Javier, which pretty much mirrored the explanation Mac gave. Jaxx knew that asking medically pertinent questions would probably be lost on the officer, so he didnt bother. “When is Sgt. First Class Jimenez going to be transferred to Germany and what is the protocol for me being able to meet him there?”

After Jaxx had gotten all the information he needed, he ended the call and for long moments just looked at the phone in his hand. The wall paper a photo of Mac and Javier that they'd sent a couple of weeks ago from somewhere in afghanistan. “Fuck!” He slammed his free hand against the steering wheel and began to shake, great heaving sobs working their way up from some unknown place. He cried for what seemed like forever, but was probably only a few minutes. Wiping his eyes, he turned off the Jeep, and headed back inside work to request time off. Javier needed him, and that was all that mattered, sleep could wait.

Fiction: Someone to Watch Over Me Part 1

 *Photos are NOT mine, but the story is, © 2012 CarrieAnn Murphy  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED*

 *photo is of greek model Theo Theodoridis, who I am basing Jaxx off of.* 

Summer 2008

Ajaxx Papalakis had learned from an early age that life wasn't fair. It wasn't fair when he was abandoned on the church steps as an infant, it wasn't fair growing up in the series of foster homes and facilities, especially after figuring out he was gay, and it wasn't fair now. Never would be. Fair was a fantasy for those who could afford to buy it. The only way he'd gotten anywhere is by fighting tooth and nail for it, and never backing down when people told him he couldn't or shouldn't. Sure, he'd beaten the odds by staying off drugs and out of jail. He broke them by finishing high school near the top of his class even though he'd been homeless as often as not.

At 18, Jaxx joined the US Army, and now at 28, after 10 years, he was being forced to hang up his gun and boots, and walk away. Don't ask, Don't tell reared its ugly head and bit him in the ass. Oh well, after 4 tours overseas, he'd had enough, anyway. He'd seen enough war and blood and suffering in third world countries. There was plenty of suffering to see here in the United States. Still, it was bittersweet, as he said goodbyes to the friends he'd made along the way. It was hardest to say goodbye to his best friends, Ryan MacAllister and Javier Jimenez. They'd been stationed together more often then not ever since they'd all met in basic training a lifetime ago. They were an odd bunch. The Greek, the Scotch-Irish, and the Mexican. They were closer than brothers. Jaxx and Javier were both darker in complexion, than Mac's pale Irish skin. Jaxx's green eyes often prompted questions about whether or not he was wearing contacts.

Jaxx took a few minutes to scan his apartment, to make sure they hadn't forgotten anything. He could hear Mac and JJ arguing good naturedly over their favorite football teams downstairs. He couldn't help but smile, those two always found something to argue about. He was so absorbed in his own world he was startled by the soft hand that touched his arm.

Sissy McCain-McAllister's soft Texas drawled rolled over him, "Sorry, Darlin', I didn't mean to make you jump." She smiled sadly. "These guys are really gonna miss you." He took a moment to admire her tall slender frame, and the long untameable curls that looked as if flames licked down her back. He couldn't help but think that she complemented Mac so well. Maybe now that he was leaving the military, he could find someone to come home to as well.

Jaxx, nodded tightly, his throat suddenly seizing up on him. He tried to smile and joke, "What's that supposed to mean Sis, you aren't gonna miss me?" He ran a nervous hand over his short military haircut, and down his clean-shaven face.

She laughed, but her expression remained serious, "It just won't be the same without you." They both turned their heads as they heard truck doors slam and the grumbling about "lazy people" come wafting up the stairs. "Guess that's your cue. Why don't y'all say good bye, and I'll lock up." She held her hand out for the keys and pushed Jaxx towards the door. 

Jaxx headed down the stairs watching his two friends lean up against his packed to the gills U haul. When he reached them, he rubbed his suddenly sweaty hands down his grimy jeans, and stuck his hand out to shake Mac's hand. Mac batted the hand away and pulled Jaxx's smaller frame in for a hug. He whispered, "Gonna miss you, Jaxx." Mac cleared his throat, and then said louder, as he pushed Jaxx away, "You make sure you keep in touch, okay."

Jaxx nodded, then looked to Javier, who stood back a bit, looking like he wasn't sure whether to cry or hit something. Though Jaxx and Mac were close, there was always an extra closeness with Javier. Perhaps because they both grew up without any real 'family' to rely upon. "Well, you gonna wish me luck Jimenez?"

Javier grunted, and said, "This is all bullshit, man. You shouldn't even be having to go. Can't you fight it?"

Jaxx leveled a look at his friend, and said quietly, "Its true, if I fight it then it could end up worse. At least like this I get an honorable discharge. Now, wish me well, and let me get on the road."

Javier felt like his right arm was being severed just thinking about Jaxx leaving their little circle, and he didn't really want to examine why he felt that way. He scowled at Jaxx's explanation, but hugged his friend fiercely, and said quietly, "You better get a place big enough for us to crash when we come visit."

Jaxx couldn't help but shiver, at Javier's breath against his neck. Other body parts started to take notice as well. He stepped back, and pasted a smile on. "Watch each other's back, and don't fight so much now that I'm not gonna be around to referee." 

Ryan and Javier stood shoulder to shoulder as they watched Jaxx jump into his moving truck and drive away.

<

*Nick Ayler, Whom I'm basing Mac on*

 *Bernardo Velasco, whom I'm basing Javier on*                                  >

Poetry: I loved her

I loved her


I loved her once.
With all the fiery passion my body could hold.
I hated her once.
With all the cold fury of a love betrayed.
Love wasn’t enough to hold us together.
Tears were enough to keep us apart.
Sometimes I can still smell her perfume,
Though many years have passed since then.
Sometimes, my arms can still feel her,
Even though I know she’s being held by another.
How can I move on when her phantom haunts me?
Ten years later the emotions are still fresh and new.
Sometimes all I want to do is pick up the phone,
Just so I can hear her accented voice roll over me.
I stop myself, knowing that its over.
I loved her once.
I love her still.
© CarrieAnn Murphy 2011 All Rights Reserved

authors note: True story, but at the end of the day, if you asked whether I would go back and do it again knowing what I know now. Absolutely. I don't regret anything. Tis better to have loved and lost then never to have loved at all. (timeline in reference to 10 years is a little off, but other wise 100% accurate)

My opinion on: ANTHONYland: I was bullied, too...

On the wonderful world of Twitter, someone I follow, and like an awful lot posted something that pissed people off in reference to suicide. He posted that, " If you kill yourself because of bullying, I don't fell sorry for you. I was bullied; I didn't kill myself. I deserve an award more."
Now I can see where A) it would be offensive and B) where I agree with him.



ANTHONYland: I was bullied, too...: This is the comment I made that pissed people off (the most recent one, at least). Well, I don't apologize. I stand behind my staement. If you commit suicide because you were bullied, then I don't feel sorry for you. If you became a better person, moved on, and made a great life for yourself, then I care. I don't know what started this fad where you kill yourself just because some unhappy abused little prick chose you as his stress ball, but it's not cool. (CLICK on the link to read the rest, Its worth it I swear!)



This person of course was Next Door Studios exclusive, Anthony Romero. (so if you are offended by people in the adult entertainment business, don't click on the link above) Anthony went on to post a pretty insightful blog post about how he was bullied that explained where he was coming from.

I'm not going to give a blow by blow of what he said, Go read it!

I am SO tired of seeing the news stories about how this gay teen or that gay teen was bullied, and they committed suicide. I'm SORRY if they were bullied, so was I. Did it screw me up? Yep, to some extent I still live with the after affects. Did life go on? Yep.

When it comes down to it, it makes ME and obviously Anthony angry to see kids commit suicide because they were gay and they were bullied. Granted, we are looking at it from the other side. We've been through it, we've gotten past it, and we've moved on. I think that I can understand the desperation of these kids, and I think Anthony can understand it even better as he is IN that age range. Kids have a lot to deal with today. Being different is never easy, whether its because of your sexual orientation, financial status ect. Chances are, you ARE going to be bullied at SOME point for SOMETHING. Don't despair, these people will eventually fade away into the past.

The illusion that all is "fair" in life, is just that an illusion. Life isn't fair. Its NEVER gonna be fair. Life is what you make of it. Stand UP for yourself. Find a hobby. If you are being bullied TELL SOMEONE! If that person doesn't care, TELL SOMEONE ELSE. Make your voice heard. If you are contemplating suicide. GET HELP! There are resources out there. Do a google search, lots of stuff will come up.

For GLBT Youth:
http://www.thetrevorproject.org/

or Call: 1*800*SUICIDE (784-2433)
Also: 1*800*273*TALK (8255)


Thoughts and opinions are welcome.