My fiance died: why is marriage so important to me?

I have beaten Google half to death trying to find an article, blog entry, facebook status, tumblr account or hashtag that might give me some insight into what I'm feeling, what I've been feeling, and why I just can't stop wrestling with it.
I was married at 19, divorced at 21, engaged at 23, and lost my fiance at 24. I hastily married someone who was, and still is, a wonderful friend, but was never meant to be any more than that, and we divorced within months.
The fifth anniversary of Danger's passing was a few months ago. It is the first time I think I really allowed myself to accept that he was really gone. I was convinced it was a practical joke for days after I got the news. I was 2,000 miles away, and, even as I bought the plane ticket and got a tattoo with his nickname in it, I was certain he'd call me, laughing his deep, roaring laugh any minute.
That call never came. Some part of me still can't process it, but maybe that's what grief is.
The man I love, the one who's still among the living, was my friend. He paid for me to get obliterated drunk two days in a row and made sure I was taken care of around that anniversary. He didn't try to take advantage or cross any lines. I knew well that he had feelings for me, and I for him, but I wasn't ready. I was single over a year before I met him. He'd been my friend before he knew about Danger, and he remains my friend even now.
But now, we've been together for four months. We spend more nights together than apart, and we work as a team in every aspect of our lives outside of his work and my schooling.
I've been divorced twice, and lost the only man beside him that I've ever both loved romantically and trusted. Why, on God's green earth, does marriage feel so important to me, to my future?
This man was with a woman for ten years and never told her he loved her. He was never in love with her, but they raised two boys together. He knew he loved me within two months of us dating, and says so freely and without hesitation.
We are not considering marriage any time soon.
But it hurts me deeply that it is something he feels is unlikely for him. I can't explain why.
I don't want to change him, I am not alright with any thought or emotion that tells me otherwise, and I haven't asked him for that, nor would I ever. I make my own money, pay my own bills, and live on my own. In reality, he would stand to benefit more financially than I would should we get married.
There is no logical reason I should feel so strongly about this, why I should want this so much. And yet, I desperately need to know why I feel this way. It is tearing at my soul that I want this and don't know why. If I know why, perhaps I can change my thinking to adjust my feelings, or simply know why they exist and be able to ignore them. I do not want to ask anything of him that he does not want, I do not want to ask him to change or do anything so major for me. That's not fair, and it's not right.
I cannot find the reason. I feel lost and scared and I'm terrified to let my emotions get the best of me and end up bringing this up to him even one more time. He doesn't even get upset, or mad, or sad or anything. He's wonderful. But I hate myself for wanting this so much. He's absolutely amazing and I don't understand why I have to want more than he's already giving me.

Never Standing Still

I've been seeing the same man for a month and a half.
For most people, that's nothing.
But men don't generally hit the month mark before I see them for who they are trying to pretend they aren't, or they run screaming because I am still a woman underneath my tough exterior.
This one encourages the woman aspect, which I really like, but I'm still trying to find the balance to everything I am.
I changed my mind about auto mechanics at the last moment- that felt like I would have been denying a large part of myself had I pursued it.
So I have applied to a university for a double major in anthropology and art. Don't ask me what I'll do with it, I don't know, but it sounds like enough fun that I'm quite sure I'll find some way to make it useful.
I bought myself four pairs of new shoes today, something I haven't done in ages. I want to buy two new blazers, one black and one red, and then I'll feel like I have expanded my wardrobe enough to get me through the fall and possibly winter.
That's not to say there isn't more that I want, but it's necessary to pace myself and not overspend on my tight budget.
The other half is about to start school to be a police officer. There's something I never thought I'd encourage. Me with a cop. Lord have mercy.
I'm attempting to get back into fashion, though it's more complicated than I thought being built like I am. I lost twenty pounds since February, and have gained a handful back the last few days. I'm not sure what that will amount to in the long run, but at 5'9", 170 pounds, nobody guesses over 120 and I think that's by virtue of it all being in my legs. Size 11 jeans for the first time in several years is a great feeling and I'd really like to keep that.
Enough rambling for tonight.
J

Changing Of The Seasons

I am finally, finally, FINALLY back to being a civilian.
I am running around like a chicken with my head cut off trying to get my life into order,  but I feel as though I am finally learning to enjoy it.
I continue to attend meetings of Alcoholics Anonymous, and they continue to help. Please excuse me if I don't dwell on this topic much, as I would hate for anyone to misconstrue my intentions as to why I post about my alcoholism- I want to share my experiences, and I want to help people who may be dealing with it, though I am not terribly sure how much help I might be to those struggling to achieve their own sobriety at this point in my life. So, I will keep my recovery ramblings to a minimum.
I am still very much searching for an outlet for my creative cravings, though I seem to be coming up a bit short on that on my own. I have recently begun to learn about metal art work and the process that goes into it from a wonderful friend over at US Of A Projects (new window). I am absolutely fascinated by his creative process and the practical application of it, and am DYING to be given free reign of the paint!!!
I have recently met a very nice gentleman, after a whole month of being single (don't judge me!) and am beginning to learn what a healthy relationship might be. It is early, yet, and my whole life is in an oddly consistent state of flux.
Mr. Wonderful Mexico has been relegated to the role of business associate. Our expectations of friendships are clearly quite different, and I am happy to send business his way if folks are in his market, but in a personal light, it's better to keep it simple, stupid.
Time to get back to the irons in the fire--- literally! Well, almost....

Single Handed And Friends

So, my sponsors had to help me get my heat going at home- Winter has finally hit here in the Sun City, and boy did I forget how much I hate the cold!
I let Rockabilly Boy know that we needed to end things, mostly because he just wasn't looking at it becoming anything, and, really, what do I need to get all tangled up in someone who doesn't see that I'm worth more than that? We're still friends, and, frankly, I like that better. I don't have to worry about if I'll get to see him (cuz I'm NOT arranging my schedule around a significant other's!) but we still see each other every few days at a meeting or with friends. He's fun to hang out with, so it works and hasn't gotten all awkward yet.
I'm meeting more and more people through AA, which is interesting and strange at the same time. One guy I've met twice and is SUCH a wonderful person, I just wish he'd stick with sobriety for the long-term so maybe he'd find happiness (not to mention he's really good looking and VERY sweet) and it'd be nice to see how that'd go.
I've hung out with a very handsome Mexican gentleman (not Hispanic- don't get all PC on me, the dude was born in Cidad Juarez, for hell's sake!) a few times, and he just had surgery, but I'm looking forward to seeing if that goes anywhere- he's been a good friend to me a few times when I needed something as it is, so either way, I'm happy.
For the first time, I'm not entirely wrapped up in finding someone, though. I really enjoy being around some of these people and, yes, I do miss having someone to disappear for a weekend with, and someone around in the evenings, but I do alright by myself. I have a group of friends I really enjoy being with, and, well, I'll live. If I don't ever find anyone to share my life with, I know I'll be alright.

Accountable

I didn't grow up "normally". I had one of those "difficult childhoods" people say make the most interesting adults.
Well, we got the interesting part right, huh?
Anywho, I talked to one of my co-sponsors (a married couple) yesterday, and made plans to have dinner with her and her wife today. Shit must have just gotten real, because it's finally hitting me- I want to run. Even though AA has made me feel a million and ten times better, even though I have no intentions of relapsing, I am terrified of the thought of someone holding me accountable for my every action- because it's never been done. How the hell do I just get used to something like that? How do I adjust to being responsible for telling my sponsors who I'm dating, sleeping with, hanging out with, what step work I've done.... everything? They're only there because I asked them to be, and, still, I'm terrified. This is a total repeat of every relationship I've ever been in, and it never occurred to me that accountability was something I resisted like this- I was so good at it in the military (until recently)....
This is hard.
I'm also seeing a guy, really good looking, so much fun, and also sober, who still very much has his walls up from the damage his last relationship did to him... We've gone around about not taking it too fast, and it just is what it is, and not needing to label it. He's told me if there's someone I want to start dating I can let him know... But we enjoy each other's company, and we spend as much time together as we can get away with. I like him a lot. He hasn't opened up to me much, but I understand a lot of his reasoning for being cautious about that, too. There's something really, really special about him, and, even if it doesn't turn into a true relationship, I'm really grateful to have him in my life, and to get the time with him I do. Maybe sometimes that needs to be enough- even if it is hard to remember when you're lying in bed alone, wanting that intimacy that comes with shared emotion. Then again, maybe learning to slow the F down is exactly what I've needed all along- and, if it turns into something in the long run, all the better.
ONE
DAY
AT
A
TIME

Drama And Doubts

I wonder if there's anyone who doesn't doubt themselves- seriously.
I made a choice to ask someone to leave my life months ago, and, even though everything that's happened since tells me that it was the right choice, a part of me still questions it. A lot of me is shocked that my best friend would rather leave to go live elsewhere than to get his crap together and remain a part of my life. Then there was him running back to his old ways despite the promise he made that he was different, and never wanted those people in his life again. I suppose it's for the best, but it's still a serious trip sometimes realizing that he could give up so easily when we'd become so close.
And now I'm staring down the barrel of some of the biggest changes of my life, and there's so much "new" it's startling- and so many people who I'd expected to be there through anything have proven that was never the case.
C is gone, S is gone, several people who I felt more obligated to than safe with have had to be asked to leave my life... This is a brand new start, but who knew brand new had to wipe out so much old?

Home?!

So, the struggles of PTSD and attempting to get out of the army alive have been put on the back burner for the weekend.
Yesterday, my whole life was turned on it's head after a conversation with a very old, dear friend revealed that I'm not the only one who has had romantic feelings and hopes in that particular friendship. Suddenly, life seems a lot clearer, if not especially easier. I discussed this situation and my newly rediscovered intent to move back to the place I was living before I joined the army with my closer friends and, of course, the man I was dating. Yes, was.
Never in my life, until this moment, have I been among the category of people who have "dumped" one person for another- but I assure you the word dump is an accurate description, because, no matter how nicely or gently you do it, and no matter how pure your intentions and reasons- that's exactly what it feels like. It's a crappy feeling.
So, today, I struggle between being very happy that I finally have the man that I have adored for over five years now as a long-term part of my romantic life, and feeling guilty that attaining that happiness required me to hurt someone else's feelings.
The strangest part of it is that I'm enjoying struggling with a conflict that doesn't make me question my own sanity and ability to function. This isn't a PTSD thing, for a change, and this situation doesn't reflect any of my past struggles in any way- it's just a situation humans find themselves in once in a while.
Ultimately, though, the struggle is handled- there's little to nothing left I can do to soften the blow on anyone hurt by all of this. I did the best I could, and still am. I am very happy that I have this chance with someone I know so well and care so much for, in a town where I have several other friends, and where I'll be able to go to school to teach special education. Also, a friend of mine has contacts in the modeling world up that way, so, even though this will require a move on my part, it has some serious benefits that I cannot deny, even if it weren't for the amazing romantic situation.
I spoke to my wonderful friend for about three hours on the phone earlier, and I despise the telephone, but it was so good just to hear his voice, to be able to talk to him about life and our plans and what we've been dealing with. He's wonderful, and he's always been one of the best friends I've had, even when our friendship became strained at some points. I'm really, really looking forward to finally looking at those gorgeous brown eyes and knowing that I'm not imagining what I see looking back at me.
Feels like a love story, and I am so grateful.

The Scoop

It's so strange to me that every time I see the word 'bohemian' on this world wide web lately, it's some sort of reference to a particular style or design... The definition I'm most familiar with has little to do with fashion and more with an all-around lifestyle:  a person, as an artist or writer, who lives and acts free of regard for conventional rules and practices. (New window.) 

Having recently opened my mind up to polyamory, (new window) as well as coming to not only understand but truly appreciate the difference between bisexuality and pansexuality- that is to say accepting that my attractions and interests aren't limited to stereotypical gender identities of male and female, but expand to include all possible gender identities, and that my taste in people truly is based on the person, not the gender- my world has shifted it's shape in recent months, and appears to be continuing to do so.
A little back story for you; my earliest crush in memory was on a woman, a friend's mother, actually, though I can't remember ever considering telling anyone that. At twelve, I came to understand that I wasn't "normal" in the eyes of society, and at fourteen, a year after my first experience with another girl, and months before actually losing my virginity, I "came out" to my mother and several friends as being bisexual. Nearly thirteen years later, my mother would still swear to you that it's nothing more than a phase I'm going through.
Now, so many lessons later, I know I'm beginning what seems like a whole new life. I have my own place, am divorcing my second husband- and the remains of that are so Sonny-and-Cher it scares me-, I own two vehicles, have the coolest dog ever and a cat who's convinced he's a dog, and, well, I'm starting to feel less like a flawed burden in a contorted, scarred body than I am a real, live woman and all that entails.
In short, it's taken me nearly twenty-seven years of life to accept who I always have been.
Go f'ing figure, right?
I've started actively looking for women to date for the first time since... well, ever. In high school and for a few years after that, it wasn't even an effort to find women to see... But now?? Yeah... Not so much.
Anyway, sexuality is such a small part of it, really. Five years ago, I couldn't have braided anything- end of story. A ponytail was high-maintenance for me, no lie. Now? I own at least three flat irons, a blow dryer, a curling iron (possibly two), three different kinds of hair brushes, a couple dozen makeup brushes, more than twenty different shades of eyeshadow, concealer, blush, several shades of lipstick, at least three bottles of liquid foundation.... hell, I have satin sheets AND a number of items from Victoria's Secret!!!! Aren't you proud of me?!
I'm still the "tomboy" underneath it all, but just because I enjoy playing in the mountains barefoot doesn't mean I can't rock lace, leather and high heels- sometimes all at once. Being heavily tattooed, I've even managed to pull the modern-vintage pin-up look off. 
I'm currently talking, in some way, shape or form, to three different ladies. I'm not in a relationship, but I'm definitely exploring my options. The youngest of the three reminds me of the ex that scared me most, though was, publicly at least, the easiest to be with- very stereotypically masculine in nature (I don't care for the terms masculine and feminine to describe people, but I don't know of another term that would explain my perception of her at this point), laid back, cool, short hair, slender, and not terribly fragile or soft in appearance. Blonde hair, blue eyes, and... well, despite my initial nerves about talking to someone who bore a resemblance to a past mate, I really like her. We'll call this friend Baby Boy as, biologically, Baby Boy is female, though tends to identify more often with masculine pronouns.
Then there's Little Mama. She's pretty, soft, funny and sweet- but also unemployed, living with her parents, has a child and no car of her own. No matter how much I like her, my nerves are more than a little rattled at the thought of opening myself up to get used in a situation like this. I have found my feet, and gotten myself to a point where I'm happy and secure, and would be really, really pissed the hell off if I wound up with someone who drug me down as I attempted to help. Little Mama and I seem to be almost avoiding one another- we haven't spent time together, and it seems one of us always has something come up. I'm not sure whether to see this recurring theme as a "sign" that I just need to put myself first and not risk it here, or whether things will fall together and be fine eventually.
Then there's Tenure. She's in her early forties, with a ten year old daughter. She's beautiful, funny, and outspoken, and she terrifies me. She intimidates the ever loving hell out of me. I've only spoken to her a little bit, but it's just so overwhelming and I really, really don't want to hurt or piss off this particular woman.
Amidst all of this, I am learning to allow myself to be pretty and enjoy the things I always thought were reserved for the dainty, pretty, fragile flowers like Audrey Hepburn ("Sonny"'s favorite actress, no less) and, as such, were simply too upscale for more Bettie Page/Janis Joplin types like myself. I allow myself to decorate my home and cars in bright colors, to wear makeup and get my hair and nails done professionally, to enjoy candles, baths and soft, sexy music... And I'm learning to realize that, really, these are things people who don't know me too well always kind of assume I'll dig anyway. Not being a particularly quiet soul, I suppose the hips and long hair suggest more femininity than I'd allowed myself to acknowledge before this shift in my thinking. Now, I lay between satin sheets, with a vanity dresser holding my makeup and jewelry up for display, my closet full of bright colors and high heels, pin-up posters on my wall and hot pink curtains over my windows. 
I don't have this figured out just yet, but I suppose understanding that I'll NEVER really have this all figured out is a pretty big part of the big picture.... So, this blog is my story of becoming a woman, growing up (mostly against my will, mind you), tattoos, high heels, makeup and, well, me.