Nameless Soldiers
Soldier's Pride
We are nameless soldiers, looking on to the horizon and expecting to see the sun. Sometimes we are told it will not rise, but not even man can employ that much power over the universe. The sun will rise, the sun will set. All is remembered, lest we forget.
My eagerness and anticipation build, as the bonfire burns ever lower. Something has changed inside him today. I wonder if now is the right time, after all that preaching about not holding back. He seems so complacent, so at-ease although I know he's tortured inside. I've been trying for years to help, but he thinks himself so tough that he doesn't need it.
I know he's been through a lot, but even those who take the high road must face obstacles. No one suffers more than another, although perhaps in different ways. I've seen enough suffering to last a star multiple lifetimes.
Now, he wants me to be with him, although I've sworn many times before I'll never leave his side. I'm willing to do anything for him, but I have my needs and desires too. Sometimes I think he doesn't realize that.
I kiss him again, to instigate conversation. He's losing interest, falling asleep, I know. It's late, and it's been an exhausting day. I open my mouth to tell him I can wait— again— but can't say it. I've been so giving all this time and now it's time for me to have some reward. I know he wants it but is afraid to admit it. He's gentile like that. That is one of his deepest flaws, however. He doesn't express his needs any more than his wants. Later, no one understands why he is suffering.
I take hold of his jaw, gently, and whisper in honest words what I want and what I know he wants. He says nothing, stony like a great monolith that never cares about anything. I stroke his hair, full of grit from the smoke and sand. I remember when it was shorter, how boyish he looked. Now, he's too old. He needs to let go of some things.
As the last lick of fire fades to glowing coals, he smiles and pledges to build the flame I never got out of him in vague, poetic words. He is always the politician, no matter how much he claims to be unworthy. I think he really fears of privacy issues, but he shouldn't have to worry about a thing. The others wouldn't speak of it; they're much too used to it. Now, it's late and I hear snores from the other tents. I hear quiet words between the others, quiet emotions, quiet fears.
I hug him tight, knowing my dreams are coming true this night. We make our way back to his shelter, destined not to be alone again. I've waited years for him, and it's finally here. Never let opportunity go. You must seize it by the throat until it begs for mercy. Then, you mustn't release until you've had all you want and one for the road.
I've learned to be brave. I've learned to be cold. I've never learned not to feel.
We are nameless soldiers told to await orders. For years, I've been giving them. For years, I followed only him— as I continue to now. I know someday that he will realize what I mean to him. I don't think he knows. We have power over ourselves to hide and to be strong that others don't let us see inside ourselves. That is the greatest tragedy of all.