I sit here in the quiet of my room, the weight of the past heavy on my shoulders. The memories of war still linger, haunting me like a shadow that never fades. It's been years since I left the battlefield behind, but the scars remain unseen yet felt within.
The nightmares come every night, relentless and unforgiving. The screams of those I couldn't save echoing in my ears, their faces twisted in pain as they succumb to flames. My hands tremble with each flashback, reliving moments I wish I could forget.
I try to push it all aside during the day, putting on a mask of stoicism for the world to see. But inside, I am broken and lost, struggling to find peace amidst chaos that only exists in my mind. The muscle memory from my time in the military lingers like a ghost, reminding me of who I used to be.
There are days when everything feels too much to bear; when all I want is to escape this reality and live a simple life far away from violence and death. But then guilt creeps in - how can I ever deserve such happiness after what I've done?
Despite it all, there is one thing that keeps me going: hope. Hope for healing and redemption; hope for finding love and joy amidst sorrow; hope for finally laying down these burdens once and for all.
So tonight as darkness falls around me once again, I close my eyes tight against tears threatening to spill over. And though fear grips at my heart like icy fingers closing around it – deep down beneath layers upon layers hardened by war – there lies a small ember of faith that someday... just maybe... things will be okay again.