But how do I make everyone happy?
I can't even make myself happy.
I can't look myself in the eyes.
Since that day.
2014.
They say I have survivors guilt.
But how would you feel?
After being shut in a room.
While your friends.
Battle buddies.
Brothers.
Are fighting for their lives.
In a place that was supposed to be safe.
And you had to sit and wait.
All cause you got two pink lines on a test.
I should've helped.
Somehow.
Anyway.
It eats at me.
Everyday.
Knowing that seeing you in the office.
Was the last time I would see you.
But there I am.
Now looking down the wrong end.
Of my own gun.
My mind said
Yes.
But my heart.
Even bruised and broken.
Said
No.
