The War at Home
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"Thank you for your service."
Five words. Something people say in passing when they see the tags around your neck, the coldness in your eyes. It's meant to be genuine, appreciative even. They give you free coffee, a three day weekend. But would they be thanking me if they knew what I'd done? If they knew that my fallen brothers may be here to hear those words with me-instead of me-had the choices I made been different? Or instead would they see me the same way I see myself? A monster in the mirror. Over there, you fight to survive, so I expected it to be difficult. But I had no idea how hard it would be when I got back home.
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