Warning: Emotional edgy stuff ahead that some of you might scoff at. It is what it is. I'm writing it anyway.

Fifteen years ago, I began this journey into another world. I never knew it at the time how much it would change me; how the lines between reality and fiction could become so blurred that I found myself obsessed with people and places that never existed, or at least they did not exist in any physical sense. Childish things like imaginary friends carried on into adulthood where they blossomed into entire imaginary worlds. I fell in love, even had a wife, a family, and so I had spent these fifteen years wandering those ethereal lands. The stories I could tell are as long as the adventures themselves. It was a wonderful escape from the abuse I endure at home, abuse that I still endure today. But it is all just fiction. There was never any belief on my part that it was anything to the contrary. All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players. I knew this world I created in my mind's eye was not real, but it didn't matter. I would rather have neglected my real life because at the time there was nothing worth while to be found in it. I'm not saying the choices I have made were right. I'm saying what they were. I was nearly 30 years old before even getting a proper job and that's my own damn fault. I still live under my mother's roof despite how nasty of a person she can be at times, and it's difficult to say whether this is because of the economy or if it is more because of my fear of failure and fear of the unknown. What if I don't make enough money and end up homeless? I have nowhere to turn to but to go back home to a mother who always 'loved' me the bare minimum, and I have my doubts that she'd take me in again if I left. Some of you may think I am overreacting. I won't try to argue. Everyone has a different perspective of things. The world does not play out from the eyes of only one character.

Though with all that rambling aside, what purpose does it all serve? So far it's just some overly emotional text dump more appropriate from a teenager than a man in his 30s. That is because Ace was always my means for an escape. He is the embodiment of everything I always wanted to be--things that are so far out of reach, or sometimes even impossible. For example, I will never fulfill my dream of flying through clear blue skies. I will not be a pilot nor a soldier because the military will not take someone with the physical disabilities that I have. Yet despite knowing that I will never reach the ideal that is Ace, I can at least do what I can to make progress in that direction. I will never be Ace. I will always be me. However I can still look to Ace as a role model for what I might yet become. He is a man of action, an entrepreneur, a loving husband, and a devoted father. He is protective of his family whom he blesses with prosperity. He would do anything to bring them happiness, especially his daughters Lani and Kira. Even in a world which I thought that I controlled, Ace has more than once found himself in situations that were unplanned, unhappy, and unpleasant, yet he always made it through these trials. Change is always difficult, but change is an inevitability. So too is the drama that comes with it. I am not sure that I am yet brave enough to venture away from the nest despite how sad and neglected that nest is at the moment. Still, I know that someday soon, I will fly on my own like Ace. Perhaps I will not fly with the wings of a fighter jet, but I will sooner or later learn how to truly seize my own independence. Every day I get a little bit closer to that goal. I'm on the cusp of it right now, but it always seems just out of reach. I save enough money to put a down payment on a house only for housing prices and everything else to become so costly that I cannot make the jump confidently. Someday though, perhaps someday soon, I will finally be my own man, and I will leave behind all the pain of the past. As Ace would say, "Even after the darkest nights, morning always comes."

I'm sure the Ace Combat fans around here can see where I drew my influence for my very first roleplaying character. It has also literally been fifteen years since this character first had a name. Funny that it had taken exactly that long before I ever got myself artwork of the character. I could never afford commissions because I never had a real job until just the last few years. Like I said, I'm making slow but steady progress.

This artwork was done by  Wolfy.