Love is Stranger: Farah, Fondly

First, let me tell you what happened to Rashid and Paula. They hit it off. They had a passionate affair that ended badly, crushing Rashid, and driving him to quit college and take a different path that, strangely enough, reconnected with mine, so that now, all these years later, it's Rashid who is closest to me, still my brother and still my friend.

Now, let's see if you've been paying attention.

Remember, way back at the beginning, when I mentioned that the Marine Corps was going to bite me on the ass again? In the winter of 2002 and the spring of 2003, the USMC reactivated almost all its inactive reserves, right in the middle of my sophomore year.

An official letter gave me a number to call and within two weeks I was on a plane back to the west coast home of Uncle Sam's Misguided Children. A quick turn through the recruit depot in San Diego to make sure I hadn't turned into a slug when I was discharged and to make sure I still knew how a rifle worked. Then to Twenty-Nine Palms to join my unit, the Thundering Third, and off to the land of sand and sun. I made it just in time to cross the border into Iraq in March 2003. As usual for Marines, those of us in the inactive reserves were given Hobson's Choice. If we voluntarily reenlisted, we could come back for another four years and return to grade and unit. If we involuntarily came back, the USMC would put us where it wanted for as long as they wanted. I reenlisted for four years.

Farah and I had two bittersweet weeks, loved each other deeply, and then ended it and moved on. Why did we break up? Over tears, as we sat and talked about it, we both realized we didn't want the other to be waiting for us. I didn't want her to be waiting while I went off to war, just another Marine girlfriend left behind. She didn't want me to be waiting for her as her life unfolded. We both realized we needed to end the relationship so we could cleanly move on.

It was awfully fucking civilized of us. We remain friends to this day. We wrote and called as I made my way through Iraq and Afghanistan, when we could, where we could, but as friends who used to be lovers.

Okay, now remember back where I said Paula still had a surprise she was going to spring on me? It was a good one. Paula spent her sophomore year as a member of the Persian Mafia. She got close to them as she got close to Rashid. I talked with her on the phone often enough when I could. Then the affair with Rashid blew up, spectacularly. It seems that, through our freshman year and into our sophomore year Paula had a crush on a member of Persian Mafia, an unrequited crush.

Farah.

Once I was out of the picture, well, the two of them circled each other and then closed in. I never saw it coming. Rashid never saw it coming. Years later I asked them how it happened. Were they out walking one day and wham, they both tripped and fell face forward into each other's crotch? Shortly after I asked the question, they both had to explain to their daughter what they were laughing so loudly about with her uncle. Yeah, that's right. There was a great love story wrapped up in here. It just wasn't me and Farah. Twenty years later Farah and Paula are happily married with a beautiful daughter, living in Alexandria, Minnesota.

There is still one person to wrap up. Rashid. Rashid took the breakup with Paula hard. I can't say I blame him for that. Hard enough that he dropped out of college. Hard enough that he did something incredibly stupid, that thousands of men and women have done. He moved back to New York and, listless and lost, sought a life of swashbuckling adventure in the USMC. He enlisted.

Imagine my surprise when, in the ass end of Afghanistan, I'm sitting in a bunker waiting for the new Urdu translator to arrive, only to look up and see Rashid walk through the door. I stood up, threw my arms around him, and called him seven varieties of a dumb motherfucker. Then, we spent the next two years of our lives trying not to get killed together. I did get one of the great loves of my life out of that time at the University of Minnesota, Morris. Except it was my brother, Rashid, not soft, sweet, sexy Farah.

But I still have in my memory that card, the one I call Farah, Fondly. Every now and then I pull it from the deck, smile, and shake my head.

Life is strange.

Love is stranger.