Hello lovelies. Holy S*** the past few days has just been a roller coaster ride. We are hanging together. We are taking this second by second if necessary. We know things are only going to get worse before they get better and we are preparing what’s coming next.
One of my/our greatest (and most heartbreaking) personal tragedies is that I was never able to fly the F-16. I/we spent our entire lives studying aviation. It’s what we were meant to do. We were born to fly. I have spent my entire life wrapped up in a battle of what could have been as opposed to what life will be.
We have numerous fighter pilot/military persona fragmentations. These “Frags” as I call them, all have their own agendas, their own career goals, their own opinions, ect. Battling them while stuck on the ground, without a Sidewinder to fire has been heartbreaking and exhausting.
As this recovery comes to a close I realized it’s not about the F16. It’s not about dropping a cluster bomb on a village. It’s not about going Mach 2 with my hair on fire. It wasn’t about being in Zone 5 locked in a knife edge fight with a MiG29 Fulcrum;
It was about escaping my adoptive home I was placed in, in the fastest vehicle possible.
Thank you for saving me.
Looking back, I thank God am not in the position of coming to terms with the idea that I bombed something or someone. I don’t want innocent lives on my conscious.
Having to let go of this security blanket of kinds, now is even harder than fighting that heartwrenching feeling everyday that I was born to fly. I believe now, many of these frags will die/disappear/Go Dormant as I slowly pull away from what could have been. Terrified but that’s life, isn’t it? Just more things I have to give up and say goodbye to.
Problem is, I/we have been doing that our entire lives. Saying goodbye (Even as a baby) became second nature to us.
This hard and it sucks but I have plenty of tissues. “So long, Pete Mitchell”.
M and K