The death of chivalry

So much made of the field of battle. Technological revolutions will do that. At the end of the day it was a simple field between two rows of trees. Was a bright blue day when we saw it in the spring of 1995. Where Henry’s Longbowmen seemed as if they’d be washed over by a tide of French cavalry that greatly outnumbered them. That was the day the Knight died, and took Feudalism with it. The Knights were the French nobility, and their numbers were devastated by arrow fire. Unlike the pleasant afternoon we enjoyed, that day was cold, wet, and muddy. The horses clopped onto the soaked field between the two thick tree lines and tried to charge the English at the top of the hill… but their numbers were too large. Ironic… if they had merely a tenth of their number, the French Knights would have been harder to hit by massed fire, perhaps been more able to maneuver, and actually had a chance. Just a few dozen heavily armored knights getting to the top of the hill would have spelled doom for the English army. But in the mud, they could barely hold formation, and with their numbers, they were packed so tightly they could barely draw their swords. They never had a chance. The best of the best of all of France were mowed down helplessly en masse with wave after wave of that bastard Plunging Fire…and there was nothing they could do about it but look around as everyone died around them as they waited their turn.

Women often complain that chivalry is dead. It wasn’t modern society though, blame the Yeoman. English Archers weren’t even really seen as professional soldiers; most often they were commoners that were commanded to train at the butts one day a week, all day. Drawing the weight of a heavy longbow isn’t for the weak; requiring building up of muscles almost no one else ever uses. But compared to the brightly-colored banners and tabards of the French nobility, more often than not with a good portion of their family’s worth invested in the glistening armor and gear they carried, they were common folk. Nobodies. Feudalism was ended on a soggy October afternoon by a bunch of nobodies. By the end of the Century, the Age of Discovery had begun and Mercantilism began replacing Lords and Barons. 

Asked the folks to bring down the photos from those trips, but they were mixed in with other albums. They found Portsmouth, Cologne, and a few each of Waterloo and Aachen, but Agincourt and Bastogne were nowhere to be found. Need to do some searching. Photos from those days are important. Found so many of us touring Navy ships. Dad always supported me, and when I was dead set in going into the Navy, he took me to bases on both coasts to tour as many ships as we could board. He really cared. Still does. I so wanted to share that with you. 

I don’t know what to do, sweetie. Typed up a bunch of feelings that I don’t want to send and you don’t want to read. None of it matters. You know already, and even sprinkling in some humor won’t make it new.

The song you sent that night hit me really, really hard. 

It hit me hard because… you don’t need to be tougher anymore. You’ve suffered. You’ve hurt. You’ve cried. And… you don’t need that anymore. It doesn’t need to be that way anymore. There is so much more… and I want so badly for your heart to be at ease. For you to be with someone you can breathe deeply and know would never hurt you. Who’d give you in the second half of your life everything that was stolen from you in the first.

Who understood… and if you accidentally reacted out of past pain and dug your talons into him, he’d know you didn’t mean it, knowing some wounds just don’t heal in this world. Being as tough as you want… but never *needing* to be tough again. 

And then…it came out. All of it. Everything I’d held back. I’m still embarrassed.

Look… I hate it too. But this is how it has to be… I just can’t pretend I’m fine with you being with someone who abuses you. No one who cared about you could. Nothing has changed in four years aside from it now being physical abuse instead of just emotional.

I just can’t deal with it. And if our roles were reversed, you would feel the same way.

My negativity would bleed through. It would spoil my words, my thoughts. I’m no good to you if I have negativity in my heart. Eventually we’d fight more and more and one day we’d  leave each others lives in bitterness and ‘good riddance’. 

There is no way in Hell I’m going to let that happen. I have no idea what’s going on now, or in the future… but no, I’m not letting that happen. You are sacred to me. You always have been. Sorry not sorry. 🙂

I want my presence in your life to fill your heart with peace, joy, and vibrance. To do that, I need to find them myself. With my health and career both in shambles, the only way I can do that is to share my thoughts here, and hope you continue to do the same.

I unblocked you after only two weeks. I got every text. Every message. I read your blog every day, though honestly I have to be wary any time you post a picture now.

It made me sick to my stomach to not be there if you truly needed me. I gave you my word, and I will always keep it. Now you know. Please don’t unless you feel you really have to.

For now, this is the way we can share each other’s lives. Please trust me. It has to be this way. I don’t know for how long.

Don’t you ever think I don’t love you, sweetie. 

Orson 🌷