A warrior longs for home. I’ve spent several years of my life away. Sometimes, it’s that distance that strengthens the bonds over time that you have with the people who are most important to you. As I was away, I never forgot where I came from and the people who were most important to me. As I traveled far away from home and spent time in the war zone I managed to hide my true feelings about how I longed to just go home. Your mind can only do so much though.
Sometimes I missed my home so much that my conscience would take me there, when I slept. I would be at my house, and everything would just seem so perfect. I would sit there and wonder. How did I get here? Who brought me here? I would ask my mother who brought me here. And she would respond, “We did, we drove there and got you.” Then I would look at her and say, “But how, I’m in Afghanistan how did you drive there?” Then she would say no more. I would wake up seeing a glimpse of my home only in my dreams. Even though I wasn’t really there, the dream was enough to bring me happiness. At least I got to see my little brother, and my mom. Even if it wasn’t real, it was all I could’ve ever hoped for.
A warrior doesn’t care for much. A glimpse of his home, a letter here and there and that’s enough to keep him happy for a few weeks. I would randomly catch myself staring at the sun sometimes because I know my family and friends who are so far away are looking at the same sun. For most people it may seem ridiculous but for a warrior who longs for home, it’s all he could ever hope for. It’s the hope, and drive to see your family and friends again that keeps you pushing on. It’s the little things in life, that mean the most. At one point I was a warrior who longed for home, and now, I’m home.