Pride
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Pride free porn video
PRIDE
Sleazy Blonde, 2021
I had to do this.
I stared in the mirror. I looked at myself.
You'd never know had you looked in the mirror that I was 42 years old and
a hardened combat veteran. Multiple tours in Iraq. Multiple in
Afghanistan. I could not tell you the number of exercises and conferences
and courses that had taken me away from my family over the years.
They took a toll.
Once upon a time, long ago, I had decided to go SOF, Special Ops Forces; I
had succeeded. Later I had tried for more specialized units; I had not
been selected but did not consider that rejection a failure. Simply put, I
just didn't fit in with them. And I was okay with that. I was still me.
At work.
But what about at home?
My time away had done something to me. I had seen a great deal of human-
to-human violence. I had witnessed firsthand the consequences of
abhorrence and repudiation, blasphemy and excommunication. I knew what
hate looked like.
There's a lot of hate in the world.
I stared in the mirror. I had several years ago sworn to be true to myself
and my instincts, no matter what anyone else said. What I do and what I
say speak for me; "they say" or "those people" or "you know, they really
shouldn't" and all that chatter I ignored.
I would be true to me, to my feelings. There was a person downstairs
waiting for me, waiting for my love, and nothing would prevent me from
proudly demonstrating it to them.
Fuck everyone else.
I glanced at watch. It was time. I heard the music start to play in the
background. Pachelbel's "Canon in D Major": standard wedding fare. I had
to get going.
A final look in the mirror. I knew exactly how I looked. I flashed my
reflection a grin.
A few moments later, I stood in the narthex. I looked up the nave toward
the chancel.
He was there. He was smiling my way. I was no longer ashamed to say he was
handsome. The fact is, he was. I say it freely now; he was handsome.
A handsome groom.
I steeled myself for the slow processional march up the nave. Focus.
Focus. Focus. I'm only concerned about my three-meter space; I control
that; ignore everything else. I felt the adrenaline.
An arm hooked mine.
I turned to look. So plain to see: a cheery, loving smile, a smile of
admiration and pure love, a smile that no caring family or loved one could
ever ignore or pass off. Here I am: combat vet, long-serving soldier,
tough as nails SOF guy. Here I am: walking up the aisle at a wedding.
I never thought it would happen this way. I had never wished it would
happen this way.
It was now just happening. And it was happening this way.
And now I wanted it too. This way.
Mendelssohn's "Wedding March" began. The congregation rose. I was buoyed
by the large number that were attending. I frankly hadn't expected so
many. There had been, I sadly learnt, several declinations of invitations.
And yet the confident soldier in me said, "Fuck 'em."
We slowly made our way down the pews. Grins. Smiles. A few stoic looks.
Splendid dresses. Business suits. A few military dress uniforms here and
there; not as many as I had hoped but more than I had expected. I issued
each a quick smile. My feet trembled step by step on the red carpet. My
escort thankfully didn't notice.
As we drew closer to the rector, I saw more of the groom and bridal
parties. On the groom's side --- and yes, he was in fact 'handsomer' the
closer I got --- there were his brothers, sisters, and dearest friends. I
had met them all: great people.
On the bride's side, I sniffled at the sight. On the bride's side stood
two children and my ex-wife. Each looked resplendent in their wedding
attire. I cast a fond and knowing glance to my ex. She smiled, wiped a
tear, and nodded back.
We had confronted many differences in our marriage. Some we had managed to
work through together. Others we had not. But on this particular
challenge, we had been in unison. Our love had prevailed over everything
else. I understood her and she understood me. "Be true to yourself," we
had often said to each other and to our children.
At the second to last pew, I stopped.
The person whose arm I held stopped too and looked at me, puzzled.
I stared at the bridal party.
I stared at the groom, the best man, and the groomsmen.
I turned and stared at the congregation. They began to softly murmur.
All of them stared back at me.
I had killed people with my hands. I had destroyed things with my hands. I
knew how to fight. I had blood on my hands. I knew how to conquer. Jump
out of an airplane at 27,000 feet over the Indian Ocean at midnight? Seen
that; done that. My hands.
Mustering every single fibre of excellence in my body, every single force
of will and determination I had ever relied upon in the darkest of
moments, I lifted my chin to speak.
The last thing I did before I spoke was to tenderly touch the beautiful,
tiny hand now in mine.
"I am not giving you away.
"I will let this young man take you, but only after he vows to love,
honor, and cherish you forever.
"As I did.
"And as your mother did.
"And as your older brother and older sister did.
"You have always been loved. By us. Always. And you always will be.
"I never expected my son to become my daughter, Darlene, but he did, you
did.
"Being true to yourself and to your friends and family; it's a standard of
bravery that, despite all my many accomplishments on this planet, I will
likely never attain. I am so incredibly proud of you, my super-brave kid.
"You are in so many ways my hero.
"I love you, Darlene, and nothing in the world would have stopped me from
being here with you today to tell everyone that you are my child, my love,
my pride.
And that I will never just give you away."
I cried. My tears wetted my several medals. They never looked better.
finito
Haven
- 19.09.2020
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