Page 53 of Finding London

Her words resonate within me.

I repeat them again and again in my head, trying to make sense of them,She’s gone. She’s gone. She’s gone.

Using all the energy I have left, I stand and walk out of the hospital waiting room. I hope never to step foot in a hospital again. The lobby alone is the most depressing place I’ve ever been. I can’t imagine what it would feel like to actually be in a room.

She’s gone.

The words don’t add up, yet I know them to be true. I think they’ve been true this entire time, probably before she even left our hotel room.

What am I going to do without her?

Without Sarah, I have no purpose. I have no reason to live. She was everything.

I was naive to think I could change her. I should have gotten her help sooner.

A million what-ifs, should-haves, and would-haves flood my mind, but in my heart, I know it doesn’t matter now.

Nothing matters now.

Nothing will ever matter again.

As I walk away from the hospital and leave my only family behind, forever, I hear my father’s words.

“Strength gives you courage to face things, even when you’re afraid.”

Well, I am afraid.

I’m afraid of loving.

I’m afraid of losing someone I love.

I’m afraid that, because of this fear, I will never truly love anyone ever again.

I’m afraid of a life without love because, despite the hard times, these past two years have been the best years of my life since my parents died.

So, I’m definitely afraid.But am I strong enough to face my fears?I don’t know.

One person can only lose so much before he starts to realize that he’s not strong enough to lose any more.

Loïc

“Apparently, I’m a selfish prick.”

—Loïc Berkeley

The calm that comes over me at the firing range seems unconventional at best. The soothing comfort is completely at odds with the deadly weapon in my grasp, yet there is something to be said for the routine of it all. I know exactly what to expect during target practice. The sounds and movements of firing an M4 are so ingrained in my head.

I take in a deep breath before pulling the trigger. The tinging of the spent casings falling to the ground paired with the smell of the burned gunpowder engulf me in peace. Hitting my mark brings me purpose. Seeing the holes on the target in the distance rounds off a familiar and strangely relaxing start to my morning.

Here, I know where I belong. Here, I know what I am meant to do.

I’m a soldier.

I train. I take orders. And I complete missions to the best of my ability. Simple.

Although unforeseen circumstances arise out in the field, they seem uncomplicated in the scheme of things. There are orders and protocols. I follow them and do my best.

I like having a clear set of rules. I feel safe, knowing how the chain of command works, how missions work. I’ve trained with my unit, and the group of us works together like clockwork. There are no gray areas.

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