I look in the mirror, it is not me. Part of who I was is missing. I no longer fully recognize the face I see. They said I made it home. They say with out a scratch. They say I was lucky. Where is the person that went to fight for what he believed in? Full of hope, life, dreams. Was that person KIA, is he some how still out there fighting an endless war? Left never to come home. The nightmares seem to say so. Did he have to be left behind so that the face I see in the mirror could make it home? They say that I am not the same. They say I have changed. They say I am different sense coming home. They say I am no longer me. I say that I was, am and always will be an American fighting man. A warrior heart, body and soul. I fight everyday to make that day the best that it can be. To get up face the sun and do what is needed. I walk with honor and pride. My losses and scares hidden deep beneath a blanket of skin. I say that I that I use every bit of my strength and courage to not let the dreams take over. I say that I am one of the lucky ones. Not all of my brother and sisters have the strength left to keep on fighting. whos wounds are not only deep inside, but also on the surface. PTSD is real. For them be strong, fight the good fight. Take strength in knowing you are not alone in this battle. Press on everyday with pride and honor, for that is who and what you are.
Posted on: Wed, 13 Aug 2014 05:58:51 +0000
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