The story of my life

June 1981.  I'm 20 years old and it seems that the whole life is ahead: in 4 months, a demobilization, admission to the institute.  Waiting for a girl from the army fighter.  And while in this beautiful, warm day I stand my two hours on the guard tower of an important facility near Sverdlovsk.  The machine behind the back, 60 rounds in ammunition.  As it was a long time ago ... I left the Soviet Army.  And civil life began.  The girl who had waited from the army, we will tune me to study and she left to study in another city.  There was no intimate relationship - she said that we will be husband and wife, everything will be.  I insisted on marrying all the time.  My mother developed a vigorous activity-stealing letters from the girl, reading them, hiding them from me and making me understand that she was not worthy of me-that they did not write letters either.  In one company I met a girl who inadvertently said that she has a lonely girlfriend and invited us to meet.  We met.  At the third meeting she stayed with me to spend the night - was a girl and I did not have any doubts - just the formalization of relations, marriage.  Our life was not asked at once: quarrels, scandals, exhaustion of nerves.  Have suffered years 2 and have left.  In three years, took her daughter, which she was completely unnecessary.  Raised one daughter to 25 years - received a red diploma of college, the institute with almost all five and she married.  But heredity from his wife gave the disease.  Heavy, psychological.  That's fighting with her husband and her disease, besides, you can not give birth.  The disease is very exhausting and there is no cure.  My mother took care of himself.  I admit that I stole the letters and did not let us arrange a life with a girl waiting for me from the army.  Now I'm married - the wife umnichka, teacher.  We love each other very much.  But the daughter is hopelessly sick and such a burden on the soul is impassable and daily tears.  I remember the warm June of 81, and I very much regret that I did not put the gun on my chest and did not shoot in my heart.  How many problems would be solved by my death.  And the girl who waited for me from the army, too, could not create a family.  Divorced.  Sometimes we recur, we remember our pure past.  But our time has already passed.