The Eagle, Globe and Anchor signify a sense of honor, courage, pride and fortitude and the standard by which a Marine holds himself. Once the title U.S. Marine has been earned, it is retained. There are no ex-Marines or former-Marines. There are active duty Marines, retired Marines, reserve Marines, and Marine veterans. Once a Marine, always a Marine. When I see The Eagle, Globe and Anchor on that uniform, I see all that Marines are famed for.

So it is hard for me to accept that honorably discharged Marines are being told to stop wearing their uniforms while voluntarily standing guard over our schools and children. Side note: My opinion on this topic is about Staff Sgt. Jordan Pritchard and Sgt. Jared Vejrostek, not Private First Class Craig D. Pusley.

The Marine Corps has an enviable reputation’ Marines are regarded as being more bloodthirsty Neanderthal than the rest of the United States Military. I’m not saying the Marine Corps’ superiority is all public perception, but I think the Corps’ image has something to do with their success. All of the services have glorious traditions, but no one teaches the young soldier, sailor or airman what his uniform means and why he should be proud of it. But, ask a Marine about World War One, and you will hear of The Battle of Belleau Wood and the courage of the Fourth Marine Brigade.

Faced with an enemy of superior numbers entrenched in tangled forest undergrowth, the Marines received an order to attack.  Artillery support was absent and air support hadn’t been invented yet, so the Brigade charged German machine guns with only bayonets, grenades, and indomitable fighting spirit. Gunnery Sergeant, Daniel J. Daly, rallied his company with a shout, “Come on you sons-a-bitches, do you want to live forever?” He took out three machine guns himself, and they would have given him the Medal of Honor except for a technicality, he already had two of them.

German forces, hardened though they were by years of trench bound slaughter, were shocked as the Marines charged across the open wheat field under a blazing sun directly into the teeth of enemy fire. Their action was so anachronistic on the battlefield that they might as well have been swinging cutlasses, but the enemy was only human; they could not stand up to this and the Marines took Belleau Wood.

By cultivating this legend of the Marine Corps as a tough-as-nails, gung-ho, pain is weakness leaving the body, unstoppable, overwhelmingly ferocious fighting force, a certain type of individual is steered toward the Corps and a certain type selects a different service.

And the mere act of signing the enlistment contract confers no status in the Corps. The Army recruit is told from his first minute in uniform “You’re in the Army now, soldier.” The Navy and Air Force enlistees are sailors or airmen as soon as they get off the bus at the training center. But a new arrival at Marine Corps boot camp is called a recruit, or worse, but never a MARINE. Not yet, maybe never. You must earn the right to claim the title of United States Marine, and failure returns you to civilian life without hesitation or ceremony.

Once in the Corps, the legend sets a high standard of service and encourages Marines to meet it, to give their all and to always demand excellence and loyalty. Today’s Marines are re-establishing, reinforcing, and rewriting their old legends for new generations to hold in awe. Theirs are the stories of heroism and glory in our current wars and when praising the virtues of our military, you are more likely to be discussing Marines than others.

These Marines have stood as guards at some of the most hostile places around the world. And now, some Marines have taken on a new guard duty. They are voluntarily standing guard at an elementary school.

These Marines are simply living up to the Marine Corps creed, that sacred bond of a United States Marine. Marines who swore to defend this county from all enemies foreign and domestic. Armed or not, they are a beacon of trust and protection our children so desperately need. The sense of security, the symbolism that they and the uniform provide, offers an atmosphere of safety and an ease of mind to the children at the school. Even unarmed, a Marine in uniform acts as a deterrent to a coward attacking the school.

Interviews with criminals have shown repeatedly that when selecting a house to break into, they will skip the ones with a dog and go to the one without. The type of dog doesn’t matter; it’s the presence of one. It is sad that we live in a country where you can no longer feel safe sending your children to school. The presence of a Devil Dog at my daughter’s school would put my mind at ease.

It is apparent locked doors, metal detectors, and unarmed security guards are not enough to stop cowards from getting into our schools. It will happen again. We turn these killers into celebrities, thus encouraging the next unknown loner, frustrated, socially maladjusted nobody who wants to hurt his peers. He knows he’ll be known across the nation for all time, and he’ll want to go bigger and badder.

Seeing a veteran standing guard would cause even the most misguided fool to think twice about attacking a school. These veterans represent a very serious danger to a coward who wants to get into a school to harm our nation’s children.

There are thousands of veterans, including 20,000 Marines recently discharged for “defense downsizing,” who would volunteer to protect our nation’s schools. I’m not saying we need active duty personnel at our children’s schools. I am not proposing a police state. What I am saying is, without their uniform, what these veterans represent is diminished. Without their uniform, cowards would perceive them as parents visiting their child’s school.

It’s OK to stand up for what you love and believe in. You don’t need to call the police or your state representative and hope they listen. There are situations in life where you can take a stand and do good. A story like this is cold water in the face of people who are living in fear and don’t know what to do. It’s easy, all you need to do is have some dignity and honor and act out of love, not hate or greed.

You are you. Don’t let anyone change that. The people who matter are the people who will accept and love you for who you are, not who you pretend to be.

Respect yourself. If you respect yourself, others will respect you. People don’t respect you for being intimidating, they respect you for being a strong person.

Never give up. Life is full of obstacles and hard times, but it’s those hardships that make you a stronger person. And without sadness, happiness wouldn’t be nearly as special.

Enjoy the small moments of happiness in life. Life may be full of hardships, but it’s also full of happy moments that most people tend to overlook. If you can’t learn to enjoy those moments, you will be bitter for the rest of your life.

Smile. Smiling is good for your health. Really.

These are just a few things that everyone should keep in mind. Don’t lose hope. Know that there’s always someone out there who cares even when you feel like you’re completely alone.

BleedFree T-Shirts

And here they are!! The first BleedFree t-shirts!! Only $20 each, a portion of every sale will be donated to the National Hemophilia Foundation.

Men’s Heavyweight T-Shirt Classic-cut pre-shrunk cotton
Available Sizes: S/M/L/XL/2XL/3XL/4XL

Order online: BleedFree.SpreadShirt.com

Talking to myself here is the first and easiest step. Talking to you about this feels like goodbye. I feel as though I am no longer your best friend who you share your most treasured moments with, with that being said I hardly feel like your friend at all, but I’ll always be there for you. Sometimes I just want to scream at you and say, “Where do I fit in?” I hate feeling like only part of you is opened to me.

What happened to no secrets? What happened to no lies? Especially from me, I’m the one that sees your worth. I’m the one that doesn’t judge you. I’m the one that has always been there for you. I’ve always said, I’m happy just being your friend. Friendships shouldn’t be about keeping secrets and telling half truths. Now I’m starting to realize that I’m only fooling myself. Part of me says “it’s over, just let go, and the other part says stay strong.” I’m writing this because I feel this is my only way out. That’s a tough pill to swallow.

I hold the rope strong. Inch by inch it slides, but I grasp the rope tighter around my worn hands. You slowly let go, hoping I don’t notice. But I do. I try to ignore it, but it eats away at me.

I feel this friendship slowly burning out. I want nothing more than to have my best friend back. This is my unconscious talking, it speaks when I am no longer strong enough to speak for myself. I wish you could see what you are doing to me.

I know that we can make it work. I know that if this doesn’t, it’s not because of something we have or haven’t done. It just means that we’re better as friends than lovers.

I don’t measure time spent on things. I don’t want to one day look back and think, I wasted ____ months on her. I want to look back and think, it was the best while it was here.

I’m sorry if I wasn’t as perfect as you deserved. I’m trying to be this time around.

Fourteen years ago, that moment our eyes met, I felt a shudder of ecstasy. Then I heard her speak, her voice like a deluge of warm milk and chocolate swirling together, and then the shudder amplified, shaking my soul like an earthquake, we had instant chemistry.

I remember meeting her, not thinking she’d ever mean so much to me. We’ve created so many memories since then, from the base of the Ruby Mountain’s and the day she became my wife; a day that couldn’t have been any more perfect. From our first kiss to the first time she looked me in the eyes and told me she loved me under. From that first afternoon playing Monopoly (I only let her think she beat me) together.

I have given parts of my heart to other women over the years, so have been returned, some I wont ever get back. However, I’ve recently come to realize that I’ve never really felt this way about anyone — zero, no one … ever. She is, and always will be my first true love. There’s something about her that seeps through to my soul and says “you are the one that matters to me.”

Over the past four days, I can’t pry my mind away from her angelic image in my brain, and I can’t stop waxing poetic on this blog. If someone asked me to picture the girl from my dreams whose whole beauty (everything about her) surpasses all others, I couldn’t conjure up a more perfect image. Her eyes are iridescent, and powerful — like waves that meet the royal hues of midnight. Her voice is a princess echo; confident and gentle, but bursting with youth and it sends bolts of enchanted electricity and excitement coursing through my veins to my heart, and almost lifts me off my feet with every word.

I hate the word love. It’s done nothing but break my heart over again and again. But I look at her, I hear her voice and I get lost in her eyes, her lips, her touch, and then I get a little bit of hope that it’s real again. There’s something screaming at me when I talk to her, even across this distance, from the depth of her eyes; a piercing stare that sees the real me, that remembers the love we once shared … I want to believe that inside those eyes are the words I long to hear again.

I long to hear her say it. I want to know it. I want to not be afraid that the hurt will happen again. But those are things I’ll have to wait for. For now, loving her from afar, telling her she’s beautiful, and whispering how “I love you” in her ear once she’s fallen asleep, is all that I can do.

I knew you both inside and out. I knew your favorite color and favorite food. I knew your hopes and dreams for the future. I knew that I was your best friend. I knew that you loved me too.

Correction, I thought I knew you inside and out, but it turns out I only knew a different you, one whose favorite color and food I did not know, one whose hopes and dreams were not the same. I thought I knew you loved me.

I do not know you. I know your lies and who you pretended to be. I know that I was used and then thrown away like a plastic container that no longer has any use. I know that I was never your best friend. I know that you did not love me, but what I could provide.

I may not know it now, but I know that I will be better off without you even though it feels like I am lost without you.

Who are you? Only you know the answer to that question.

Sometimes. I like to drive, for no reason, in any direction. Heading to somewhere new, somewhere I can experience new sights, sounds and smells. A place where exploring isn’t something old.

Sometimes. I sit down with a keyboard and mouse and make my imagination come to life, clickety-clacking all the random thoughts I have and make a vast jumble of craziness, just because I can.

I don’t do these things because I’m insane.

I do them because life isn’t about complaining about details, it’s about enjoying those details, life is for living.

So live it.

Maybe it’s in our blood, or whole being to love someone for awhile and then move on.

Maybe it’s part of being human, the way that love can be so fleeting. In your arms one minute, gone the next.

Maybe it’s the feelings that linger after everything that’s said and done that drives us forward.

Maybe it’s written in the stars, or maybe it’s life; one step at a time.

Maybe we can’t control how it begins or how it ends. Maybe we can love each other forever but still wake up next to someone else.

Maybe we can love them with our whole heart and still love the one before, the exact same way.

Maybe we can claim to hate each other, but still always wonder what it would have been like to have stayed together.

Maybe nothing lasts forever, but always lingers in our hearts.