Out here some days go by without any effort. I wake up and go on patrol, come back and eat dinner, get online and talk to people, watch a movie and go to bed. They just fly by without much to look forward to or much to dread.
But some days are so hard its unreal. Some days my mortality and my insignificance are shoved into my face with a plume of dust and the wail of a siren. Some days I feel every single one of the 6085 miles between me and home. Those days are harder than I thought they would be. The world and everyone in it keeps living their lives, and I'm just here.
I forget too often about their lives. I forget that just because they're not in a combat zone they don't have to deal with tough shit. Because they do. Fighting for your life often doesn't take place far away with gun and grenades, it takes place everyday in the things we have to do vs. the things we want to do. It takes place in figuring out what is best for us, what will make us happy and keep us sane.
Life's hard no matter what and we all have to keep fighting for those golden moments when everything gets a little clearer, when the sun shines a little brighter and the weather is a little warmer. We have to fight for those days when we can just sit back and know that everything is right for once. The days we know we are where we are meant to be, with the people we're meant to be with, doing what we're meant to do.
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