War takes its toll on everyone. When war is waged to protect the ones we love, it ends up hurting those we love most. When it called his name, he gladly took up the mantle. He went to war with a promise that he would return. As the days turned into months, and the months into years, she realized he was never coming back. When they told her he died on the front line, she cried. Her life went on, sorrow echoed in her every waking moment. She wished he never had gone. Eventually she began to forget, and found new love. It was years before she saw him again. She ignored him, not believing that he was real. He had come back, but she ignored him. His heart had broken, because the one thing that kept him alive while the enemy had him, wasn't his anymore. He tried to pretend, but he couldn't hide it anymore. When he put the gun to his head and pulled the trigger, the bottle fell to the floor and shattered. He was found facedown with a letter saying he would always love her.
She tried to hide the guilt, but couldn't pretend. It had broken her again when she found out he had been alive. And had killed himself when he found out she didn't love him anymore. When she finally put the gun to her head and pulled the trigger, her bottle fell to the floor and spilled everywhere. They found her face down, his last letter clutched in her arms. They were buried together, under an old willow tree, while the angels sang a Whiskey Lullaby.