Send Me Back

I’m having a very bad night. My youngest took over Netflix tonight, and he’s interested in war movies. Before you get judgmental and I not-so-kindly tell you to get the fuck off my page, I understand these movies are violent for a two year old. What you don’t know is whether or not I’m an idiot parent that doesn’t teach my children right from wrong.

He first played War Machine, which featured a quirky Brad Pitt as General McMahon, trying to win over the Helmand Province in Afghanistan. I was there before the movie supposedly took place, and I could have told them there was no saving that little piece of hell.

Anyway, it was a good movie. It turned the bureaucratic bullshit into comedy gold, and Pitt’s face comprised ninety percent of the humor. Even the futility of the mission was morphed into irony, humor’s mean cousin.

Next up, my little monster played Sand Castle. This movie took place during my tenure in Baghdad. It hit me, really fucking hard. I’d feel my heart racing, and taste metal on the back on my tongue. I wanted to be there. I couldn’t stop watching.

That was the only life I was ever good at. I don’t want this civilian bullshit anymore. I can’t give up my kids, but they’re all that keep my feet planted in the states.

I’ve given up on love. Everything I want, someone else already has. It’s fine. I lived without it during my deployments. Being deployed the rest of my life is much more appealing that fighting about what fucking restaurant the misses knows she wants, but refuses to tell me.

I won’t have to deal with these PTSD symptoms over there. I went to Afghanistan after the shit went down in Iraq, and nothing bothered me. There was less stress there, but it was just enough to keep my mind occupied.

I won’t have to deal with working over there. It wasn’t work. It was family, working together for an often-unknown goal. I guess the purpose of the war would be my “dinner restaurant”. Someone knows what’s going on, but they refuse to tell us.

I won’t have to deal with people over there. I would be the one with the power. I have the gun. If I can’t change someone’s mind with my words, I can change their life with a bullet. It’s black and white. My family there would have the same idea.

I can’t stand this life. I can’t stand doing nothing but working and taking care of kids. They’re my reason for overcoming so much, but I feel my skills are needed elsewhere. I’ve been a father for over ten years, but I still feel like I no longer have a purpose.

Everyone leaves without hesitation, over here. Nobody leaves over there without a fight. We’re all happy in hell.


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