This story ran two years ago, but on Valentine's Day, with the war in Iraq and war over sexuality still both in heavy effect, I think it's relevant.
This story, a piece from the NYTimes Modern Love column about a lesbian serving in Iraq, about hiding her sexuality.
It is really one of the most gorgeous columns I've ever read.
But I couldn't do that. When I joined the Army in 2000 I had never anticipated any future need to censor my life, had never imagined the flesh and blood form in which my true love would one day appear. I had raised my hand and sworn the military oath to redeem a decade of debt, to escape the years of assembly lines, waitress aprons and janitor buckets that had kept me afloat. Thanks to the Army, I had just received a degree in English, and for this I was grateful.
Like my country, teetering on the edge of a war with unknowable costs, I had decided to borrow now and pay later. As I saw it, I owed for what I had received, and it would be a sniveling, wimpy misuse of my love to back out just when the bill was due to my country and the men and women I served with. I did not really buy the bill of goods they'd sold everyone to star-and-spangle our reasons for pre-emptive invasion, but I had sworn to obey my commander in chief.