“And how are you feeling today Michael?” A dark haired woman sat across from him, a notepad resting on her lap.

“ How do you mean?” I asked not sure exactly what she was looking for. Did she want to know I was depressed, yet still had no explanation for that? Maybe she wanted to know that I thought of ways to numb my pain everyday. I didn’t know.

“ I mean have you had any more suicidal thoughts?” She was a curt person.

“ Well… I guess I have, but I mean that’s normal for me so nothing new” it was always a strange topic, I did know that I wasn’t supposed to be like this but it’s how I’ve lived all my life, so when she asked my reflex was to say ‘I’m okay’. Apparently those weren’t the answers she was looking for though. I met her two days ago while I was at the military hospital, she seemed like a wholesome woman introducing herself as Sarah Tellman a psychiatric therapist. Mrs. Tellman was, to be precise,my therapist there to evaluate my character and whether I was fit to continue my tour… or if for my safety and everyone else’s, I was to be sent home. She’d been stopping in everyday since I woke up in the hospital, though everytime we met our session was cut short she certainly was a busy lady.

“ Okay so that’s not good. Do you ever have thoughts about hurting anyone else besides yourself or is it strictly limited to you?”

“ Oh God, I wouldn’t hurt anyone else on purpose unless I was ordered to. I only think about hurting myself, I guess I feel like I’m someone who needs to be hurt I feel like nothing or sometimes it’s worse than that, I feel like a burden on everyone around me” I was being as honest as I could because I wanted to get help, I didn’t want to be like this anymore I wanted to change who I was. Her head nodded as she listened to my strained words , it was hard for me to admit the way I felt as a man I was supposed to be strong, confident, nothing was supposed to get to me, yet everything affected how I thought and felt.

“ Okay well it’s all about your safety your squad’s safety so what we’re gonna do is go ahead and send you home. It’ll be a medical discharge, and you’ll be getting your GI bill so no need to worry” her tone was dismissive leaving me no room to argue.

“Okay, thank you...I guess” I murmured as I walked out of her office. Later that very same day Tommy stopped by to visit.

“ I heard they’re sending you home” he said quietly. We didn’t speak much he was my friend, but there was a silence that lasted between our words.I knew he was still mad at me, I wanted to be closer to feel normal, but how do you broach that subject without sounding…girly. We were both human beings, yet I couldn’t get past social standards I didn’t want to be perceived as something I wasn’t...but what if he died? What if I never saw him again? Was I really going to let society dictate who I was? Or was I going to live with regret?

“Tommy, I’m sorry. This is who I’ve always been, and I’m sorry I didn’t let you know that I needed help I just didn’t know how to tell you I was struggling. I want us to stay friends” I was afraid, I didn’t know what his response would be or what he thought, but I knew that if I said nothing I’d later regret the silence.

“ I could’ve helped you. I’ve been struggling too you know… I just. When I saw you on fire I got scared it seemed like everyone around me was dying I didn’t understand why. I can’t promise we’ll stay in touch because I could still d...I might not make it I guess, but even if that does happen I will still be your friend; and you better write you punk” we both shared in a laugh as he asserted that last part.

“Of course I’ll write, tell you about all the shitty life details I’m required to tell you about” I joked.

“ Good.” Tommy smiled as if those details actually mattered to him.

“ I’ll see you later then” He said turning on his heels and giving a short little wave behind him. I felt better knowing I could leave without regret.