At some point I realized I enjoyed the war far more than the peace because the war gave me something to do. It wasn’t so much a sense of purpose but rather that its where I excelled and what I was made for. Peace is for lovers and I am anything but lovable. I’m passionate and detached at the same time. I don’t understand fake words and fake sentiments because that’s not what comes from me. So times of peace are always hard because it more shows the vast differences between how I see the world and how the world sees me.
I told someone I cared about once that I was made the way I am because you need people like me to protect everyone else. Being full of fire and focused anger and determination and nails and that fight, fight, fight, trigger instead of the flight is what makes people like me stand up during crazy and impossible situations. Is it because we have nothing, no family, no lovers, no ties, just that baseline seeing things for what they are that we just don’t give a fuck about our lives? So we offer it up to people who know will be missed by others? Do we do it because deep down, we know we’re the ones that must? Do we do it for the puffing of egos and great bar stories later? Or do we do it because we’re just plain stupid?
All I know is I will stand where others will not. The majority of the time I stand alone, though support is “whispered” in my ear because fuck, what would be though of YOU if people knew you stood behind ME? I’m the difficult one, the vocal one, the combative one, the cold one, the heartless one.
If you only knew the truth. And maybe that’s the ultimate truth of all of us who are like the we that we are:
We do it because of a greater love. We put ourselves on the line, because of love. But we’ll never admit that love because it doesn’t really mesh with the now narrative we have to live up to that other created for us.
So perhaps we do the crazy things because of ultimate love for our fellow man, fellow creature, the earth, the universe and what have you. But War keeps us busy and drowns out the unbearable silences of peace where we are reminded that our love for the world isn’t returned.
I don’t know how to answer this delemia besides some of us are just made that way. We’re made to war barbecue other people can’t. I can only speak for myself but in return, I never have issues sleeping or looking myself in the mirror wondering if I did the right thing that day. I went to war for somebody or some idea and though I’m tired, often beaten up, I can rest knowing from a moral standpoint, I did the right thing. I’d like to think that’s what all of us get who are made this way. We get to sleep at night.
But don’t think it doesn’t come at a cost. We just don’t get to share that.