Unspoken Abandonment (24 page)

I
had completely
distance
d
myself from everyone and everything. I went to work
,
and
I
quietly did my job every night. I would
then
come home and seclude myself to watching television and eating. I stopped
caring about my
life, I stopped taking care of myself, and I stopped taking care of my relationships. I grew more and more distant from everyone.

My marriage was hanging on by a thread, and I think it was only because I had entirely stopped trying. If I continued to try, it would
only
have been fight after fight, and I had long since abandoned any expectations. I w
as tired of being told that she was no
t attracted to me, and I just opted to not hear anything at all.

For the first time
in my life
, I
found myself alone
. I
did
ha
ve
people around me, but I had
built
such
a wall around myself
,
and exc
luded every person from my life
,
it was to where
I had
disconnected from everyone
.
The exercise eq
uipment in my workout room had no
t been touched in months, and it showed. My face and body fattened as I filled myself with garbage, and
I
did lit
tle else. The person I used to be
was now gone, and I accepted that
that this was
most likely permanent
. I barely recognized the person I had become, inside and out, but I saw no way
to change
.
I saw no way out.

When I first got back from Afghanistan, America was proud of its troops. American flags flew everywhere, “support the troops” stickers were on every other car, and people were quick to shake hands to thank those who fought. I know that people are still proud, but the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan
had
steadily lost popularity over time. The death tolls began climbing higher and higher, civilian casualties were becoming unacceptabl
e to many, and the very
reasons for both wars were
being
called into
question.

No matter what
the experience of
Afghanistan had done to me, I was always proud that I had been there,
proud of
what I helped accomplish, and proud of what I had been a part of. I never lost that pride. I was there, and I saw firsthand why we needed to be there.
Everyone else
on the other hand,
they
were starting to lose that resolve. Handshakes were being replaced by
contempt
, and support was being replaced by criticism.

On a
random weekend
night, I decided to go to a neighborhood restaurant and grab dinner at their bar. The bar
, which had a very rustic feel,
was
in the center of the restaurant. H
ar
dwood planked floors
,
covered in peanut shells and other debris
, gave the restaurant a unique vibe
. The bar area was a three sided wraparound bar, with televisions lining the middle. One television was playing a newscast where the anchor announced, “The war in Afghanistan: is it time for America to leave?”

I ate my steak while watching, and the man sitting next to me said, “That shit’s turning into another Vietnam.”

I said, “You know, in a lot of ways you’re right.”

“It’s an unwinnable war, everyone is just being wasted over there,” he declared.

I asked, “How so?”

He told me there was no set mission for Afghanistan,
and
America was fighting blindly. He described a scenario where America was simply responding to each incident, threat by threat, without ever accomplishing a goal. He said, “And that is a waste of our young men.”

“So
you think that ousting one of the most dangerous governments on the planet was a waste?” I asked. I continued, “The Taliban posed the single g
reatest threat to the American p
eople in the last generation. How is that a waste?”

He answered, “Sure, anyone would agree that getting rid of the Taliban was needed
, b
ut what have we done since then?”

This guy used the term “we,” as
if
he was somehow a participant in this. I always got a laugh out of people who refer to a sports team as “we,” when they clearly don’t play for the team. They’ll say, “We won the world series,” as though the person making that claim had anything to do with the victory. I was beginning to assume that this man had nothing to do with any operations in Afghanistan or the Middle East.

The man continued, “Now we’re fighting with insurgents so we can build schools and hospitals for a country that doesn’t even want us? That’s just stupid.
What we need to do is blanket that whole shithole with high explosives, and wipe it
off
the map.
”

He looked to be in the age range where
he possibly served in Vietnam
,
a
nd because of his earlier reference to Vietnam, I made the assumption he had been a part of that war. I said, “It’s a lot more than that. It’s not so simple sometimes, but I’m sure it was the same way when you were in Vietnam.”

My assumption turned out to be misguided when he explained he never served. He explained, “No, I wasn’t in Vietnam. I was going to go, but it wasn’t
in the cards
for me.”

“Were you ever in the military at all?” I asked.

He smugly responded, “No, I went to college so I wouldn’t get drafted.”

“If you went to college to avoid being drafted, why did you just say you were going to go?”

“Well no, I wasn’t going to go to Vietnam. It’s just a figure of speech.”

“Then why would you say you were going to go, if you weren’t?” I asked.

He timidly said, “Look, I’m not look
ing for a debate or an argument.
I was just trying…”

I interrupted, “You were just trying to dump your bullshit opinions on anyone that would listen!”

“Excuse me?”

I said, “Yes
,
excuse you. You have no idea who I am, but you’re going to tell me a bunch of shit about America wasting its men in Afghanistan, and the efforts being useless?
” I paused for a moment and asked,
“
What’s my name?”

He asked, “What do you mean, what’s your name?”

He and I had
n
o
t introduced ourselves yet, and we never did. I knew he did
n
o
t know my name
,
and I asked again, “What’s my name? It’s a simple
question;
just tell me my first name.”

“I
don’t
know what your name is.”

I calmly explained, “That’s right, y
ou have no idea what my name is, because
y
ou know nothing about me. You have no idea if I’ve seen
a
wom
a
n tortured because
she
wanted to be treated like a human being. You wouldn’t know if I had to watch a child die because she wanted to go to school. You wouldn’t know. You know nothing about me, but yet you’ll sit next to me and tell me what you consider to be a waste. You wouldn’t know what a waste actually was if it bit you in the ass.”

He said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that you… I’m sorry.”

He offered to buy me a beer to apologize, and I kindly declined.
As he got up from his seat, h
e said, “I’m just going to move to avoid any awkwardness for you. Again, I’m sorry.”

That was just one incident of many. It became commonplace to hear people’s opinions on things they knew nothing about. For every one person that would say something positive and kind, two would have diarrhea of the mouth and not know when to shut up.

This
change
in
ideology
naturally caused me to question my own beliefs. I began questioning why we were actually fighting these wars. I wanted to believe
that the sacrifices I had made and all that I had given
was for something. I wanted to believe it was fo
r something
greater
than
me
. I truly needed to know that
all of this was no
t for nothing
,
and I had made a difference,
even if
in
just
some sm
all way, to making someone else’s
life better.
News reports and conversations of corporations making billions of dollars off of the war steadily replaced reports of schools for girls, food charities, medical facilities, and
the
hope
s
o
f
a better
life for the Afghan people.

I struggled with the dilemma of why. Why
had I gone to Afghanistan
? I thought all along that I really was a part of some greater good, but was it really all for nothing? The conversation with that stranger in the bar replayed
itself
in my mind, focusing on the thought that this really was a waste. Did I
really
give up who I was for something that had become
nothing more than
“
a waste?
”

It was one thing to
deal with everything on its own, but
a
dding the fact that I was now questioning if it was all
for nothing made it unbearable
. Up until this point, I was able to hold everything together just enough to keep my world
from completely falling apart.
I now felt like I was becoming exhausted
,
and
I was
unable to hold on any longer.
Piece
by
piece
,
I had fallen apart
,
and
I
was ready to let go.
I reached the lowest point I had ever been in my entire life, and I was
facing this
all
alone.

The
B
oeing 737 airliner
rumbled down the runway, building speed as it
pressed forward
. The engines roared as the front end lifted off the ground
,
and the aircraft
ascended
into the air. After a few moments, I was able to release my death grip from the arm rests, and I wiped my sweaty palms on my lap.

“Would you like a drink, sir?” the flight attendant asked
as she began taking drink orders
.

I always hated flying
,
and I hoped a drink would take the edge off. I replied, “I’d love a Jack and Coke.”

I watched out
of
the window
,
as America passed by beneath me.
Four and a half hours later, the plane landed safely in Las Vegas. I collected my bag and then took a cab to my hotel. I got myself settled in, and
I
sent a text message which read, “I’m here. Let me know when you’re ready to meet up.”

Within a minute, Matt responded, “I’ll meet you at the Hard Rock at 5:30, fights start at 6.”

I flew to
Las
Vegas to meet with Matt, an old friend, to watch a mixed martial arts event. Matt still lived in Las Vegas
,
and
he
always had great connections for tickets to these events
.
T
hat night’s seats were amazing.

About half
way through the event, Matt began talking
with
his friend, Charles
, who had joined us for a few minutes
. Although I had met Charles through Matt before, he proceeded to introduce me
again
, “Hey Charles, this is my friend Bryan.”

Cha
rles
said, “Yeah I know Bryan;
we’ve met before.
” He jokingly continued,
“
In fact, I’m pretty sure it’s you that introduced us the last three times we met.”

Matt and Charles
then
talked whil
e I watched the fight, and
I was having a great time. For the first time in a long while, I was actually enjoying myself.
Matt said he needed to go talk to a
nother
friend for a few minutes and he would be back soon. I did
n
o
t know Charles very well, but I liked him a lot from what I
did
kn
o
w. He was a very sociable and engaging person, and
he was
very respectful.
Charles was a physically big guy, but his personality was even larger. He ha
d a certain presence about him that
I
can only assume
is what made him so succ
essful in business and in life.
I do not know exactly how to explain it, other than saying h
e was
just
a very comfortable person to be around.