They sent him off to war before he had a choice in anything. Before he knew what it was to hurt and to see people hurt. Before he knew what it was like to be broken and to see brokenness. And see hurt people, broken people, do awful, hurtful broken things. A war in his kitchen every night turned into a war in his room, turned into a war in his mind. Every day in and day out.

I sit here staring at the fire, thinking of him. Consuming flames lighting parts of the ground around the bonfire we all watch. Or at least I watch. Others aren't looking, not really. They're too busy talking, chatting, and falling in love. But I am. No one stops as sparks dance into the sky, smoke changing directions with the wind. But I sit there, watching, and think of him.

All the taunting words his parents spoke, drawing him into the same fights they'd been battling so long. Holding on dearly to himself because there was no one else. Just a flesh wound, here's your rifle, go back in. Day in. Day out. It's just a flesh wound, it'll burn and sting but you're fine: everything is fine. Crawling up beaches now, as the sirens carried him away, his flesh wound taking all the blood from his hands, his wrists, his sides. That same old war, day in, day out, clawing away at his skin until his armor built up over years and years finally gave way. No one could protect him anymore.

The paramedics roll him away, and I watch, I run to the car and follow u til it's the hospital room and all I hear is beeping, see his fragile form. From a war in his mind, to a war of his will to a war of his hands.

I hear the doctor beyond the corner cry, "sir I think he's bleeding out."

Back at the fire, looking at all the people there, the friends sitting next to me. The best friend sitting next to me but I can't speak or move or think. Everything is just this fire. Everything is just his face, that room. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.

Something's you just don't speak about.

Because,

With him I served, in that same war. With him I fell down. When I saw his face, real or not real, leaving me forever, I fell. I'll take those wounds as mine if it means he won't suffer anymore. Put me in that damn hospital room, I'll take down. I'll end the war, if I can just watch you from up there. Watch you breathe in, watch you breathe out. Even if I didn't anymore.

Anything for him.

The fire blazes, as it has blazed for the past hour. As it keeps going. As people around me people keep laughing, talking, falling in love. But I just keep sitting, watching it burn. Burn and burn. Best friend next to me, friends on either side. If only I could take his hand in mine.

But then I'm back in that war zone, watching his heart stop beating for three seconds, watching the nurse pound his chest in and out. In and out. They would all crowd around him as I fell down, the same second life went into his lungs, something med school didn't cover apparently. When someone dies, when your life dies a little and a little day in and day out, as your life turns into a living hell every second, a part of you dies too. A part of you breaks too. Someone's daughter, someone's mother. A part of him died each day, a part of him died that day, that day. And a part of me died too. And a part of everyone I knew. But maybe it burned away a bit too much, even as the flames of the bonfire reach toward the heavens, trying to burn it too. I died that day. Even if he didn't.

"Hold my hands through plastic now."

Trade his heartbeat for mine, as I fall to the ground in front of that stupid bonfire, even if the flames of this don't consume me, everything else did. All my friends around me scream, call out, but it's too late. It was always too late. All I can think to do is look into his beautiful eyes, wishing I could hold his hands.

"Doc, I think he's crashing out," the paramedics would say as they carried me away.

I didn't get a chance to tell him anything, how could I tell him? How could I ever express what happened?

And something's you just can't speak about.

I only had twenty minutes to sleep, sitting there, wherever I was sitting. But I dreamed of this. All of that. Day in, day out. In every war at home I took on, of every bonfire in my mind, of every time I woke up in a hospital room. But I dreamed of some epiphany.

Just one single glimpse of relief,

To make some sense of what I've seen.

With him I served, with him I fell down. Down. Day in and out. And I knew that whatever I saw, I couldn't let happen. To stop this goddamn war he's been fighting so long. It has to stop.

With him I serve, with him I fall down. And I'll fall for him every time if at night I can watch him close his eyes so slowly, watch him breathe in, breathe out.

Damn right I'd fall for him every time.

Only twenty minutes to sleep some nights, with all the nightmares, all the times I see the faces of every soul lost in this bitter war. But I dreamed of some epiphany.

It was just one single glimpse of relief,

That made sense of all I've seen.