The days.
Weeks.
Months I spent waiting.
But you didn't come back the same.
All because you had to go and fight in a war.
It's not your fault.
It's there's.
And when you did come back.
You weren't the same.
You were scared.
Emotionally damaged.
Traumatised.
Even the therapy sessions had no effect.
That's what happens when your best friend is shot in front of you.
Trauma.
I wouldn't mind the fact that we don't talk.
I understand.
It's just,
The days.
Weeks.
Months I spent waiting.
But you didn't come back the same.
