Helplessness

Times like this, I hate the most.

Not the times when I feel the need to see my own blood drip from my veins.

Not the times when I feel so empty I end up having gaps in my memory when I look back.

Not the times when I hear them screaming in my head and no matter what I do they don’t shut up.

 

Not any of those times.

But moments like this, days like this, weeks like this even; I hate the most.

Because these are the minutes, the hours, the days when I can’t do anything but be some sort of stand by.

Some sort of person who loves (in any sort of way) a soldier and is just waiting on the sidelines for them to come back from the battlefield.

Not knowing if they will come back breathing or…

 

I hate moments like this.

Where all I can do is breathe, sit and wait.

And hope. But what use is hope in a war?

All I feel in the hours of these moments is helplessness.

But I want to help. I want to do something.

I want to run to you in the middle of all the flying bullets and just help.

 

Is that so much to ask?

 

But the reality is…I can’t.

I can’t help.

All I can do is wait. And wait.

All I can do is wait for my soldier to come back home.

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