"Don't look away. Keep your eyes on me." I whisper in your ear, my fingers play with your shirt and gently stroke your chest as my green eyes stare at your face. I order, I command, but deep down I can feel shivers going down my spine and fear creep into my heart. I worry about you. I always do. I trust that you will come back to me, alive, so I can hug you and I could kiss you but there are days when I'm not so sure that you are okay. We all carry our pain, we all hurt inside. You lost your mother, your girlfriend, your wife, your brother... you lost a lot of people and you've witnessed the horrors of war, horrors I've never seen because I wasn't on the battlefield.
I never had to take a life before so I can't fully understand what you're going through. My mother never loved me, I knew pain until I held my son in my arms. I lost him and sometimes my heart breaks because I remember him. I saw the boy of my late husband, riddled with bullets and face down in a pool made of his own blood. I drank. I used to drink myself to sleep. I used to hide there, in the glass of bourbon or whiskey. I used to forget through the bottle. "Don't look away. Keep your eyes on me." Tommy... I need your arms around me. I need your warmth. I need to hear your heartbeats. I need to hear your voice. I don't always ask, I don't always need... but there are days where I cannot function. there are days where I can't leave the bed... days where all I feel is pain. I don't want to depend on the bottle to soothe my heart. I don't want to drink myself into oblivion. I want to remember... I want to remember your laugh..your smile.. your scent. I want to remember you. So, please... Hold me. Hold me tight.
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