||[Apr. 3rd, 2003|09:40 pm]
Every time I close my eyes, I see pictures of those bombs in Baghdad. And then I see pictures of dead Americans, picturing Americans lying in shallow graves, a soldier with burns covering his body from the 12-volt battery the fucking Iraqis are using to torture our soldiers. And then I think of Paul. I fear for him so much. I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to him. I think that would send me spiraling back into the depression that I've fought so hard to come out of. I miss him so much. I wonder if he thinks of me where he is? I wonder if he thinks of the days and endless nights we spent watching movies and doing the stupid shit that he thought up. My first love...first loves are the hardest to let go. I won't let go of him. I don't want to let go of him. Even if you're not a Christian, do you think prayer still works? I've been praying for him every night, every morning, every day. Praying that he will come home safe, praying that he will see me graduate...a promise he made before he left. I don't know. I'm so afraid and so confused. I just want to see his face smiling down at me once more. I don't know. I don't know is all I can say. Goddammit! Why the fuck did we have to get involved?? His service was almost up...just waited a few short months more and it'd be okay. I spend every free moment at school looking up articles about his division...checking the names of POWs and MIA and KIA. I'm so afraid right now. I wish he was here. I wish I could hear his voice telling me he's okay. I don't know anymore. I don't know. I just don't know...