Gas Masks and Marriage

In the military they seek to instill confidence in every Soldier for their gas masks. So in basic training there's always the gas chamber test.

In life our Elders seek to instill the confidence of honesty, virtue, and kindness in all of their children. So that in time we can pass the test of love.

You train and drill in the use of your mask. It all becomes a game. Sure you can put it on in seconds, but it's all a game. Uncle Sam wants you to believe it! He wants you to know it to your very soul. That there may come a time and he needs you to know it will work.

You learn your lessons. But not all practice hard. Some wear masks. To them it's all a game. They can put it on just as quick as they take it off. Soon they lose any compassion for what it does to others. It's all a game no matter what their Elders want them to believe. There's something wrong deep in their souls. And there will come a time when you know it won't work.

And so the scenario goes. You're given the command and you and your buddy's laughing and joking break records to put it on. Then your marched in groups into a room with no windows, and one door out. You look around and there's a hazy almost on fire smokey look to the room. Then they close the steel door. Your called to attention. And then the drill sergeants begin to run you through exercise drills. All the time you're having the time of your life. It's all so funny.

And so the scenario goes. You're given the wedding, the marriage. You spend your days laughing and joking. Feeling Superior to those who don't have the great love that you do. Nothing can stop you. You have each other. You're having the time of your life. You're a winner! The fairy tale is true. Then one day she's sitting there with her mask slipping.

Then the mood changes as they tell the first rank to remove their masks. You watch as your friends in the front row start to act differently. Almost immediately some double over and begin coughing. As the Drill sergeants yell and command them to answer questions. You knew what was going to happen. You thought you did. You thought it was all a joke. Wasn't it? When your friends couldn't take it anymore they ran for the door. You saw the panic in them. Not so funny anymore.

Until that moment when all walls around you are windowless. And you see things in a hazy view like from a movie. You feel a door close on your heart. You hope it's all a joke. Something else to be funny. You ask her what's wrong. Please tell me. You watch her as her mask finally comes off. And those once beautifully laughing eyes look at you as though for the first time. You see the intention welling up in her like a doctor with bad news.

Then it was your turn. Upon the command you take a deep breath. You shut your eyes tight. You know how the game goes. And you know you can win it! But the Drill knows the game to. They yell for you to look at them when they're talking to you! And you feel it, on your skin, eating your eyes. And you know what will happen if you breathe. Never breathe. Never breathe again. But they want answers to their questions. More answers than you have breath saved to speak. Until you must borrow air to answer.

Sooner or later it becomes your turn. You feel the dread as she looks to you to answer the question. She doesn't love you. She never loved you. And she doesn't want to be married to you anymore. The moment is surreal. You stop breathing. You'll never breathe again. You feel cold. You try to blink away the tears. Fearful of the questions to ask. Terrified of the answers to get. Unable to breathe to start.

With your eyes burning and your nose already running and skin burning you borrow the air you need to live. And all at once everything outside pinning you, is in you, and you just want to be free! Now you know why the door is steel and shut. You know the Drill sergeant who holds the other side. You know why he holds the other side. He's holding it against your arrogance. He's holding it against your ignorance. He's holding it until you break.

With your eyes burning, begging to wash themselves from the sight, you have to breathe. Breathe dammit! You want to be free. Free From This Moment! But you know you're locked into it. And you know she's holding you there. And you know why. Because you were happy. Because you were sure. Because holding you will break you.

When you've done your penance you and your comrades in that row are set free. And you run. Some of you fall. But you can easily find your way out by the trail of tears, snot, and coughing.

When you stood in front of the judge and the lawyers words are done. He bangs the gavel and says you're free. And you run. From the pain. From the tears. And you try to find your way out.

Sometime after the ordeal, you look down at your mask. You remember the false sense of security that you felt before you took it off. You will never think the same way about it again. And it's never funny anymore.

Sometime after the ordeal you look at your wedding photos. You remember the happy feelings your partner showed, before they told you it was all fake. Before they took their mask off. You look at the ring that you've taken off and you will never think the same way about it again. And it's never funny anymore.

~~~~~~~

Why do I think of these two things simultaneously? Why do I think of either at all?

It must be nice to have a mask....