I feel empty without them. I feel wrong. I feel as if something is missing. The skin where they resided lighter, having blocked the sun for so many years. My computers scratched and wore where they rested. My walls scuffed from my carelessness. My wrist scared from cuts past. I feel such guilt for enjoying the mobility in my wrist. I feel guilty every time they do not scar and scratch. I feel guilty every time I habitually flick my wrist and they do not clink together.
I have tried to see what such a freedom feels like. To see what living without them feels like. The truth is, I never live without them. Every moment of every day they are with me. I still feel their weight and scars, even without their tin reminders. The truth is, living without that reminder brings guilt. It makes me wonder what it is I am hoping to accomplish. The truth is, living without them is heavier than living with them. The weight and scars, physical and mental, will follow me to my grave.
The truth is their weight and scars live with others every day. They weigh and scar those around me. Every scuff and angered inconvenience quickly met with a twinge of guilt. Every angry moment immediately transformed into acceptance and understanding. Every moment they hurt another, their weight bears upon them. No one dare ask they be removed. No one dare question the weight and scars they bare upon me.
The truth is every scratch, scar, and clink remind me of how precious this world is. It motivates me to be the best I can. It makes me cherish every moment in a way so few could ever understand. The truth is, I miss them every day. I miss their physical reminders. Whatever it was I hoped to discover I do not know. What I did discover was how intracule they are in my life. That the physical graveyard served something much bigger. I miss my tin graveyard. I miss those names wrapped around my wrist. I miss their physical reminders. The truth is this freedom is tormenting. The truth is I owe my freedom to their sacrifices. I owe my life to their memories so they might live on.
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Jake Smith is a law enforcement officer and former Army Ranger with four deployments to Afghanistan.
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