Azalea
My Mum named me from a flower that symbolizes home or sanctuary.
She misses her country that much.
I was born and raised in Minnesota.
My mother is a Cebu-born nurse who went to US for a chance of a greener pasture.
My father was a Navy pilot and I grew up, dreaming that I can be like him.
But as I get older, I realized that I don't want to merely drive aircrafts,
I also wanna learn to fight, by guns and by hands.
My mother contradicts my dream.
She had lived her married life with a husband she rarely sees because of the call of duty.
She doesn't want that to happen with her only child.
But I am determined.
This dauntless heart that has flickered within me has flared into courage that was focused on defending my country.
I have known since time immemorial that I am queer.
I never liked barbie dolls. I never watched girly movies, I never wore skirts, and I love Dakota Fanning.
All those dolls being gifted to me during Christmas and birthdays were never opened. I never liked any Disney princess, I love Marvel Heroes.
I love Dakota not because I want to be like her, she was my dream girl.
During my teenage days, I always daydream about her. I wanna kiss her, I want to hold her.
I wanna make love with her.
Yep, she was the object of my wet dreams and fantasies.
I am aloof with every one because I don't feel like I belong to neither boys or girls.
Entering US Navy Seals is like chasing after the wind.
Women are literally not qualified. Any gal can train but they will tell beforehand that it is impossible to withstand all the trainings.
You don't just train to be a swimmer, you have to swim like a fish.
You don't just train to pull a trigger, you have to be a sniper and a sharpshooter.
You don't just train to learn how to fight, you have to learn how to defeat your opponents.
You don't just train on how to fly aircrafts, you have to make them fly like a bird.
You don't just train on how to kill criminals and terrorists, you have to kill a child or an old or a lot of them if you have to.
How I made it in the finish line was still a mystery to me. Every day I want to quit. Every day I want to die. The trainings are unbearable, but I somehow persevered.
Surviving to finish the drills is serene compared to what I've been through in Iraq. It was my first mission abroad. I somehow lived for a couple of years, that is an achievement. Some of my colleagues never made it in a month.
My last memory in Iraq was when a bomb exploded from my very eyes. I managed to turn around and run by a single or two steps.
I was thrown meters away. Thanks to my protective gears because it kept me alive. Severely wounded but alive.
I was hospitalized for a year. Mum told me I was unrecognizable. My back was full of shrapnels pierced through my skin.
My whole back was now a wreck. It's like a thousand transparent centipede crawled and stuck itself in there.
