The Pacifist [COMPLETED]

I Wish I was Back in the Army

Joseph

The setup for the support group was awkward. They were in a small room that had once served as someone's office from the look of it. The chairs that were positioned in a circle were a little too close for Joseph's comfort, so he made sure to grab a seat next to JP.

Men with haunted eyes slowly filtered into the room until there was about eight of them, not including Joseph and JP. Joseph wondered if he looked as used up, like a dirty rag that had seen bathroom floors, as these men. Their absolute desolation slammed against the mental walls he had preemptively meditated into place. It was still too much.

"Good evening everyone," started JP. "I want to first acknowledge the courage it takes to come to these meetings and to say that I'm happy to see all of you tonight. Does anyone want to share?"

Everyone kept their eyes downcast. Joseph admired how these men seemed to be as reluctant as him to be there, yet still showed up. He wondered if they had someone in their life to encourage them, or if JP had been as persistent with them as he had been with him, or... if the fear of being alone was greater than their reluctance. Even though no one spoke, JP patiently waited and the patience was obvious. There was no pressure, just unconditional space. Joseph felt ashamed that he hadn't directed his coaching efforts towards veterans, although that hadn't been by accident. In his attempt to quell his monster, he had distanced himself from everything that could stir it.

If he was honest, he missed the army. Everyday, he had woken up with a purpose that had been chosen for him and his thirst for blood had been an asset. Redefining himself had nearly killed him— many times.

"I got a new job," one man spoke up. Joseph shifted only his eyes to look at him. He was clean-shaven, with a buzz cut and sported a tracksuit. "I'm not super excited about it, it's just warehouse work but it's been keeping me busy and people let me keep to myself."

JP nodded with a noncommittal smile. Joseph understood it; too much enthusiasm could put pressure on the guy. They may be tough veterans, but the state of being 'okay' was a volatile one.

The man shrugged. "Anyway, that's been good."

"Congrats man," said another attendee, again, tone neutral.

"I miss the violence," Joseph said quietly, surprising himself as much as he clearly surprised JP. He turned to his friend. "I thought I had my shit under control but... I met a woman and..." Ever the man of few words, Joseph struggled to express what sat so heavily in his chest. "I don't want to hurt her."

Everyone nodded at his words. Joseph wasn't alone. Like his friend had said, it's what they had been trained to do.

"I miss it too," chimed in another man. "You know..." his shame had him pausing, "the excuse to do fucked up shit." Not so many nods, but he got one from Joseph. They all had their reasons to join and serve, some more honorable and acceptable than others.

When Joseph had first enlisted, he had told himself it was to serve his country and to protect the freedoms of its people. He had spun this beautiful lie that he could put his size and natural strength and athletic abilities to good use. Joseph's father and grandfather, well, it went back at least four generations, had served and he wanted to make his family proud. It had been expected. Now, he wondered if his blood thirst was genetic and they had had darker reasons for serving as well.

The man who admitted to liking doing 'fucked up shit,' looked down in embarrassment. "Sorry, I guess it's messed up..."

JP held up his hand. "Don't apologize for thoughts and feelings. They're valid."

Fuck this guy is good, thought Joseph. He felt bad for judging his friend and his initiative. Joseph sat in moody silence while each person shared something. They spoke about the good and bad things happening, their time in the military, feelings, hopes and dreams... everything really. There was no structure or agenda, just brotherhood and empathy. Joseph grudgingly acknowledged to himself that it was nice and possibly beneficial for him. After the meeting concluded, the men filtered out, a little more light in their eyes that would most likely be snuffed out by the time next week's meeting rolled around. The thought of the seemingly hopeless task alone, to keep these men afloat, overwhelmed Joseph and triggered an intense despair. He didn't know how JP could manage it.

"So, what did you think, man?" asked his friend once everyone left.

"You're doing god's work JP. I'm sorry I didn't come sooner."

He smiled. "Thanks, that means a lot. I'm glad you shared."

Joseph grunted.

"So are you gonna tell me about this woman you mentioned?" JP leaned against an abandoned desk stacked with dusty folders, flyers and newspapers that must have been at least a decade old.

Joseph tensed at the thought of sharing the delicate dream that was Rachel. "She's an artist," he said, with no hint of elaborating further.

"I get it."

Somehow, Joseph felt JP really did get it.