Higher Ground

[Brace yourself, this post will be long, but I have to talk about everything that has happened]

I'm back early and the circumstances are horrific.

I'm not just talking about the fact that I was evacuated from a fire that is apparently making NBC, Fox, and even BBC headlines. The problem is that everything important in my life is becoming incendiary, both literally and metaphorically.

Let me address the obvious issue first: I am back home about 4 days early. The boot camp that I was staffing was being held on the grounds and in the facilities and buildings at the US Air Force Academy just north of Colorado Springs. If you have not seen the news lately, that is a part of Colorado which is smack-dab in the middle of a huge forest fire crisis.

Everything was grinding steadily along and I was hitting my stride. I was making the best of the situation and working hard to ensure that my time at the Academy would be worthwhile despite the fact that I did not want to be there at all. I had made it through the first week, which was used for training just staff, no basics ["campers", basic level cadets aged 12-19]. The basics had been at the Academy for about three and a half days and were finally learning their way around things, learning their required materials, and were making developmental leaps and bounds.

We had seen the fire, now being called the Waldo Canyon Fire by the news, begin on Saturday, just after the basics arrived. It seemed small enough, but by the end of the day, it had reached 400 acres and there was a pillar of smoke rising out of the mountains just off base. Over the following few days, the air constantly smelled like a campfire, but we continued as usual, under the impression that the fire was traveling away from the Academy.

On Tuesday, we awoke to grounds covered with smokey fog. As the sun rose, the fog evaporated off, allowing the smoke to be freed and to rise in murky clouds up into the sky. The pillar of smoke rising from the fire became thicker, wider, and darker, taking on the appearance of a sort of mushroom cloud. By the early evening, the sky was mostly the color of new asphalt despite the sun still being far above the horizon. You could see it shining red through the smoke, turning the surrounding clouds dark orange. As the sun set, it began to shine up underneath the carpet of smoke that stretched across the sky, giving everything a yellowy glow, like the world was one giant Instagram.

We received orders that night to evacuate the Academy when the fire was about three miles away. The evacuation was hasty, panicked, and very disorganized due to the fact that it was being run by old, senile men, and not young, task-ready staff members. A lot of the staff ended up having to take unofficial civilian transportation to get out.

I was driven by a fellow staff member. On the way out of the Academy and through the Springs to the evacuation point, we could see the fire out the windows as we listened to shitty alt-pop music on the radio. The pillar of smoke had widened to take up half the horizon. You could see the flames jumping over ridges, stretching down hillsides, and actively consuming houses. The scariest part was how fast it was moving; I saw the fire line move through a block and a half of some suburban development in a matter of minutes. It was beautiful and absolutely terrifying to see. 

We evacuated to Peterson Air Force Base, where the cadets were informed that the boot camp was being cut off and that they should all go home. The problem is that Peterson AFB, which is south of the Academy, is pretty out of the way to everyone but Colorado Springs residents. Some cadets and staff members had flown in from different states, some had driven from the opposite side of Colorado. As for me, I was a mere three hour drive away, however I didn't have my car with me on base as I had been dropped off by a carpool.

At Peterson, we were all herded into this huge community building and divided into two groups: those who could be taken home immediately by their parents and those who had no place to go for the night. Those of us who were stuck for the night ended up being taken to the on base fitness center and bedded down in a large gym. I felt like a hurricane survivor or something.Bare in mind that throughout the entire evacuation, I was still a staff member who was responsible and accountable for the safety and security of the basics. I was working hard to keep my cadets [who were all coughing and getting nosebleeds] calm and functional for the duration of the evacuation. 

We spent the next day at Peterson waiting for every single cadet to either be picked up or find a ride out, because the base commander couldn't accommodate us 'cadet refugees' for another night. I eventually found a ride home with a bunch of staff members. At that point, I felt like a hollow machine-thing. I could organize people into groups and give orders, but I couldn't articulate need-based thoughts or feelings. I also smelled heavily like fire and sweat. The only thing keeping me going was the fact that I would be returning home within a matter of hours.

Let me tell you, I have never been happier to see my cell phone, bed, car, and computer in my life. After showering and changing into civilian clothing out of the uniform that I had been wearing for the past 38 hours, I finally felt like a human again. [Note: by this point, I had had about three and a half hours of sleep for those past 38 hours]

I immediately went to the house of the chief medic from the boot camp to hang out with an assortment of the staff. We had a fairly tight-knit group and we all needed to decompress from the events of the past two days. At that point, after the realization that our months of planning, hours of stress and work, and commitment to perfection and presentability had all gone for naught, all that we could do was laugh about things.

There was no point in being angry, sad, or even scared anymore. We collectively accepted the situation and ruination for what it was. Truth be told, I was secretly glad to return home early, even if it was only by a few hours. I was also secretly disappointed that I had to return to real life after becoming so close to my fellow staff and the whole feeling of boot camp. I don't know. I'm still processing my feelings on the matter.

Here's where the issues turn from environmental to internal.

At the little staff get together, I became a hypocrite.
There was this other staff member, a guy only a year older than I, who had been hitting on me all week. It was mild enough, and I had been reciprocating by doing my own fair share of flirting. I assumed that things would go nowhere dangerous because we would never have opportunity to actually act on any intentions. But then, all of a sudden, there we were, with opportunity presenting itself with an apple in its mouth.

I kissed him. Or I allowed him to kiss me. Maybe we kissed each other, I don't know.

I could say that everything was very innocent; no clothing was removed, kissing was only on the mouth, etc. It's all true, but those are just excuses that I've been feeding myself. I suppose the only justification for my behavior is that in the moment, I felt a certain closeness to him that couldn't occur at any other time with any other person. We have both just survived the same ordeal and shared full understanding of one another's reservations. There was a substantial amount of lustful intent involved, but at the heart of everything was a simple, mutual need for comfort and familiarity.

I am still an incredible hypocrite. I spent all that time freaking out about Technicolor Boy cheating [if you can call it cheating when the relationship is still undefined] and there I was, 'cheating' on him.

I am not proud, but I don't regret it.

Still, after the get together [and a quick tooth brushing/swish with mouthwash] I went immediately to go see Technicolor Boy. Talk about a driving need for familiarity. The smell of his house, the feel of his arms, everything made me feel like a person again.

I didn't tell him about the other boy and I don't know if I ever will. I know that it's not okay to make exceptions when it comes to fidelity and hypocrisy, but I don't know how to present the facts to him without completely fucking things up when our non-relationship is already on a shaky enough foundation.

I don't know why I want to make things work with him so badly, but I feel like this non-relationship is the only thing that I can effectively put effort into right now.

So, I suppose everything is good again. Aside from the fact that the state that I live in is perpetually going up in flames, my friends are losing their homes, and what could possibly have been the most important event of my summer was cut short, things are good. I'm safe, alive, and can eat Taco Bell again. I truly am counting my blessings and am praying hard to God or whoever the hell for my friends, their families, and for the firefighters and soldiers trying to tame the monster that is consuming the mountains.

What's no good is that I no longer have any high ground to stand on. Physically, there is no safe place to be anymore. Little fires are popping up everywhere and the big ones are just getting worse and worse.

Mentally, I know that after kissing the other boy, I no longer have any moral ground to stand on if Technicolor Boy were to have gotten with another girl while I was away. I can't expect him to keep completely to himself when I turned around and did exactly the opposite.

I guess, if one were to look at Maslow's hierarchy of needs, all three bottom levels [physiological, saftey, belonging] are fulfilled, though I am still concerned about my own safety, security, and well being. The top two levels [esteem and self-actualization] of my personal needs pyramid are in shambles.

I leave for New York in just under a week, and until then, I am lost. I don't know what to do or where to go from here.




Julia