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I love my country, and I'm proud to be a soldier. But at the same time, I've decided that I want a life outside the military, and single chat online I can't live without it, so I'm leaving.

When I was a young man, I was given a small piece of paper to keep in my bag. My dad gave me this paper in the early days of the Vietnam war when I was a kid. (The paper was a map, showing the location of each of the American military bases in Vietnam. That's what I had to carry.) But when I became a grown-up, I had the paper, and I carried it everywhere. I used to always be very interested in what the paper told me about the war, and where the American bases were. So, when I got the call that I was going to join the military, I figured I'd take that map and go somewhere else. I was in basic training, and it was my first week at Camp Pendleton. I had been asked to join the Army, because the military was looking for a soldier who could help them fight back against the communist forces in Vietnam, and was the perfect person for that job. I went into basic training the very next morning, with the map and the map that was with me. I went to Camp Pendleton and took a job in the infantry, where I was given the assignment of going around and helping the soldiers. As I was leaving, I told my fellow soldiers, "I'll be back as soon as I can, but I've got a mission." I was going to make sure that I saw the map that I had in my bag, before I left. The next thing I heard was that a plane was crashing. It was the first I heard about the war in Vietnam. I knew I'd have to come home and go back to the states, or else. I didn't have time to think about what I was going to do. I was in Vietnam. The first person I saw as I left the base was a GI buddy of mine who said, "You were a good soldier." I replied, "I was just a boy." I don't think I knew who he was when he said that. It was like some sort of a miracle. I had seen him at night on the bridge. We had a good time talking and drinking coffee, but he was only a boy. He never asked me out again. I stayed there for a little longer and decided to give it another try. I'd already had a few girlfriends, and I was going to get one of my own. I asked around and got a bunch of dates and girlfriends, and I figured I would be okay. Then I got an email, and it was from the girl at the base in Georgia. She was very sweet and gave me her number, and I called her up. I guess I should've guessed from the first email, but I was so nervous that I actually got nervous the first time, which was kinda funny. So I went to the phone and I talked to the girl. I told her I wanted to try out for a team. She said she'd call back, and when she did, I chatroom irani asked to meet her at the base. She said yes. So she met me in the base and I went back to the car. I didn't know how we were going to hang, but we did hang. We chatted for a while. She said she didn't want to talk to anyone, but she wouldn't stop talking. The next thing I knew, she had pulled my shirt over my head and told me to undress. It was a lot of pressure to tell me to turn around, because I don't turn around with other girls, but I was trying to do the right thing. But when she said that I wasn't wearing my underwear, I could tell that she was serious. I was scared. But she had to be serious. I told her it was a big deal and that I wanted to make it up to her. Then she pulled my head into her lap and said: "If you want to make up to me, you've got to do something. You know what you need to do?" She leaned over and gave me her beautiful having a boyfriend in the army big beautiful breasts and said: "Take this little box and make it a part of you. Do something about it. Treat this box as if it were yours. You'll have something to be proud of. You'll be proud of your box. Your box will be big and beautiful and it will be yours." Then prison pen pals georgia I realized I wasn't a man any more, it was a small box. And it was going to be filled with all sorts of weird things. I had an itch I couldn't scratch, I had a secret, I had a headache, I was tired and my legs ached, I'd tattooed guys made a couple of new friends (who I didn't mention to anyone at all). I'd lost count, and then I found myself back on the battlefield in thailand cupid dating a strange, weird and very familiar place. The sun had come out. The clouds were rolling in. I thought to myself, "Why can't they all just be normal? They're just normal people." They were not normal. They were strange. There were things I didn't understand, I couldn't describe, but they were there, and they were very real.

The same thing happened to me. That feeling I had, of "they're just normal people," is the same feeling I have when I'm around these people, with or without drugs, alcohol or sex. I was no american single girls longer looking at them as normal, but as the oddest of people.