An open letter to my Wife and the World

It’s funny how music can be a motivator, a hinderance, or a controller of emotion.

Right now I’m underway working in my office.

I have this great playlist that has about 250+ songs on it that range from high tempo hard techno to slow loving and emotionally charged ballads. The music has driven me in many directions. And while sometimes it is merely a distraction, some of it has actually driven me to be better.

As some may know, I’ve been on my own for the last 10 months of my life. Those 10 months have been the most difficult of my life.

I have had experiences that have reduced me to tears. Brought me to the edge of the bounds of sanity. Destroyed my ability to function. And for a period of time, dragged me down into the realm of suicide.

Nearly everything in my life that is of value was removed from me by my own actions leaving me no one to blame but myself.

To anyone reading this, That is a VERY difficult pill to swallow.

Since I have been alone, a lot of things have taken place. I have learned. I have observed my mistakes and the mistakes of those around me. I have made alterations to my life, my personality, and who I am in an attempt to restore a modicum of order to my existence.

I am slated to transfer from my current unit within the next few months.

I have spent three years stationed at a facility that has beaten me, broken my will, and destroyed my faith in the service to which I have toiled for the last 10 years of my life. I was, and sometimes still am, in the position where I don’t even know if holding on to this job is worth the stress.

I look forward to the day that I walk across the brow of this ship for the last time, never to return. Only to turn back one final time to flip the bird and dust my feet. I have plans for getting away from this three year disaster that has made up the most recent chapter of my life.

The plans I speak of are simple. But because of the pain, the suffering, the lonliness, and the constant heartache that I have suffered, I will execute these plans with such vehement passion that you would not recognize it as coming from the man writing these words.

I am moving across the country. 2034 miles from here.

I will rent me a home with three bedrooms, two bathrooms, and off street parking.

I will have my lovely wife Andrea by my side. My two Children Hayden and Lillie will be there as well.

I will work my required 8 to 4 shift each day. Traveling as required.

I will ensure that two Fridays each month my lovely wife will have the uninterrupted hours dedicated to a night out as a couple.

I will ensure that my children have the time each night dedicated to them as people instead of wasting my time on a computer.

My kids will be read a story each night at bedtime. They will be tucked in, kissed on the forehead, and told that they are loved.

My eternal companion, my spouse, my lover, my wife… Andrea will receive her nightly foot rub as I did each night when we were still together. She will get her backrub as often as she desires just as I did for her before.

Each time I have the opportunity to do so, I will tell her that I love her. I will not only show her through my usual deeds of cooking, cleaning, and watching the kids, but I will buy her flowers. I will get her little gifts just because I was thinking of her.

Weekends will be dedicated to taking the kids to a park, a movie, or just playing on the beach.

As I have done for the last 10 months, the “noise” that only my wife knows of has ceased, and it will continue to stay that way.

I am a horrible person as judged by my history.

No sane person would consider associating themselves with me if they knew of my personal atrocities.

I am dedicated to resolving my personal failings.

I am committed to exceeding the expectations laid out by my loved ones.

I am committed to being the best Father, Husband, Lover, Spouse, Companion, and Friend that I can be.

While some involved are apprehensive, I have too much riding on the line to fail.

If I have learned anything in the last 10 months of my life, I have learned that I can succeed.

Now… I just have to show the right people so that they can judge for themselves.

My wife made a comment on the 4th of July back in 2011. She told me to find out what makes me happy. To find what I enjoy in life and to seize it.

I did.

I figured it out.

It’s kind of funny how you can find contentment in life with the things that make you happy, but still know that there is that last piece that makes the good things even better.

My name is Garen Anderson.

I am going to retrieve my family.

We are moving to Oregon where I will fill my role as Father and Husband.

I fucked up!

I’m fixing it.

God as my witness!

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30 Day Blog Challenge – Day 3

3 days in.

I’m already getting tired of this. LOL.

Okay, here we go… todays topic:

Your First Love

Hmm, this one is interesting. I know that there is a difference between love and infatuation.

Very few people will know what I’m about to talk about. You should feel lucky to hear the story.

I know that I dated a number of girls growing up. Some I dated. Some I just took on a date. Others that I was infatuated with and still others I simply lusted after. (Don’t worry, I’ll try to prevent you from being uncomfortable with this)

The first girl was Marybeth Kershaw. I liked her. She was the first real girl I spent any amount of time with. Mom and Dad didn’t want me dating her so I didn’t. BUT, that was a year long fight.

next…

I actually dated a girl named Elizabeth Harmon. She was sweet. A member of the church. She was even my first kiss. I told her I loved her, but looking back, I don’t quite think it really fell into the jurisdiction of actual love. I liked her a LOT. Don’t get me wrong, but was it love? I’m sad to say, no.

After Liz there were a few girls I was friends with. Some I spent some personal time with. Even a few I kissed. But then there was “her”.

Andrea Choate.

I actually made this girl my wife. I dated her for around two years. I spent great amounts of time with her. She made me smile. Made me happy. And while my parents wanted me to have nothing to do with her because she was considered a ‘floozy’, I fought them every single step of the way.

Eventually, my mother and I came to blows on this topic and she kicked me out of the house for it. We eventually made up, but the damage had still been done.

Back in August of 2002, Andrea and I set the date to be married for October 12th. We cranked out invitations and everything. The invitation thing is a whole blog post in and of itself. I don’t think I’ll be telling that one any time soon though.

Anywho, I prevented myself from telling Andrea tha tI loved her for nearly a year while dating. That was a trick in and of itself. I had been burned a few times with girls that I liked and I did NOT want to screw this one up. So, while sitting in the car on the beach in Tracyton Washington while eating a sack of Tacos, she let it slip that she loved me. Incidentally, it was in the same place doing the same thing that we agreed to get married.

I realized at that point that I felt the same way. I loved her too.

So, there you have it. I liked girls. I dated some. I was infatuated with a few. Hell, I even lusted after a couple. BUT… I can’t honestly say that I really loved a girl until I met my wife. I don’t think even she knws that part of the story. (Well, she does now as she reads this blog)

 

A first love? Yeah, I have one. I just happened to be lucky enough to marry her.

Maybe that sheds some light on why I fight so hard to keep her.

-G

 

p.s.

I love you Andrea Anderson. Don’t ever forget that.  ❤ +1