Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 1

priceless.
    After taking a sip of coffee, I open the newspaper; the headline causes my eyes to nearly bug out of my head and the breath to whoosh out of my lungs noisily.
    BREAKING NEWS: Obama, Pentagon certify 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell' repeal
     
    I wrap both of my hands around the mug and bring it to my lips, sipping at the steaming brew to cover up the shocked look on my face while I continued to read the article.
    " Today, we have taken the final major step toward ending the discriminatory 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell' law that undermines our military readiness and violates American principles of fairness and equality," Obama said in a statement. "In accordance with the legislation that I signed into law last December, I have certified and notified Congress that the requirements for repeal have been met. 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell' will end, once and for all, in 60 days— on September 20, 2011. "
     
    Christ, there had been rumors, but just like in civilian life, rumors run rampant among the troops and more often than not are complete bullshit. Being the government, the bullshit rule is probably even more accurate.
    "Fuck me," I grumble around the mug. Twenty-two years I've been hiding a big part of myself and the day before retirement, DADT is to be repealed? Are you fucking kidding me?
    "Goddamn shame," John complains to my right.
    John Wilson is about a million years old, still believes women belong barefoot, pregnant, and their place is in the kitchen. Still pays homage to the ancient belief that women should be seen, not heard. Most days John is laughable at best. It's kind of fun to tease the ol' bastard. It doesn't take much to get him all flustered and steaming, and I admit to finding a perverse pleasure in seeing if I can cause the steam to shoot out of the man's ears before breakfast is even over. For the most part the ribbing is good-natured and I know he's a dumbass so I don't take him seriously. In that moment however, with shock causing my heart to hammer in my chest and feeling a little off-kilter while my brain tries to figure out if the article is fact or a joke, I'm in no mood for John's antics. Looking up from the paper, I turn and glare at John. "You got a problem with gays in the military, John?"
    "Damn straight I do," he spat, pushing his wire-rimmed glasses up on his red, bulbous nose. "This country don't need no damn queers fighting for it. A bunch of Nancies running around slapping the enemy? Where is the honor in that? Next they'll be allowing pedophiles and rapists to run our school systems."
    Now for twenty-two years I've been known as Gunther Duchene, United States Marine. It's the side of myself I present to the world around me. It's not a lie; I am a Marine at the very core of my being. But from the age of ten I've known two things for a fact. Number one: I would grow up and become a Marine, and number two: I'm gay. The two things mix like oil and water so I kept my private side secret. I know what you're thinking, what a coward . Well fuck that. I'm not a coward, I'm realistic. I had to sacrifice one thing for the other and I don't regret a day of my life. Unlike some people, I don't need nor did I ever want to be one-half of a pair. I didn't have dreams of meeting Mr. Right, settling down in the 'burbs, and living happily ever after. My vision of a perfect life is combat, technical maneuvers, strategic planning, building a powerful body, and when the opportunity presented, a hot guy to fuck or suck my dick to satisfy my baser desires. I had no wish to be loud, proud, and out. Never felt it my responsibility to be a representative, role model, or any other type of influence for the gay youth. Being a damn good Marine and damn good man defines me, not who my bed partner is.
    Spending over half my life around other soldiers, I have heard every joke and disgusting slur slung at gays. I don't take it personally. They talk the same smack about commanding officers, men, women, straight, gay, bi, black, white, young, and old, it don't matter, they will eventually get around to disrespecting everyone. Hey, at least they are equal opportunity dumbasses. I'd wager a good number of them slinging some of the nastier remarks about gays would have willingly dropped their fatigues and presented their asses to me. However, this morning, John's statement had me clenching my hands tightly around my mug and my body literally shaking with anger. How the mug didn't shatter under the pressure, I have no clue. What