The Dream

                I woke up in an unfamiliar place.  A place unknown to me, a place not normal to my so-called and not-so-normal life.  I realize where I am as I sit up in my bed.  I begin to get dressed; pants, t-shirt, belt, and everything else.
         As I lace my boots all the clichés run through my head:  “I’m fighting for freedom,” “Following in the footsteps of our forefathers,” “Going where millions have already been.”  Yeah, yeah I’ve heard them all, and been made fun of for it all as well.  It’s nothing new.  I step outside into the dry, hot, sandy desert, and I remember home.  This place is so different from home.
         Another day just like all the others; eat, stock up on snacks for later, get water (lots of it), grab something for dinner that night, grab my weapon, body armor, and helmet, and check it all for any problems.  Now, to my humvee to make sure it’s all straight.
         Another long night on patrol.  Quiet, boring, uneventful, and just plain boring.  Up one road, down another, up another, down another.  God, this is boring.  I can’t fall asleep though, gotta pay attention.  One wrong move and… well just don’t make one.  Riding in a humvee can be so tiring sometimes, standing there in the turret is even worse.  Just watching everything go by.  Is that trash or an IED (improvised explosive devise)?  Check the underside of the overpass…all clear.  Just another quiet night, those are always nice.
         Then out of no where, the first round goes by my head, the next bounces off the side of the truck. And then the loudest bang and hardest hitting wave of percussion you have ever felt hits you as an IED goes off close enough to make you think you just got hit with lightning.  And now my quiet night just went out the window along with the driver’s lunch.  And now it’s on in full force.  I start looking around for a target as fast as I can.  Then things start to get crazy, and I mean really crazy.  As another round flies by my face a life unknown to me, but maybe known to me in another life, flashes before my eyes.  A life with you, a life I never knew and probably never will.  A life that could only be in my dreams.
         All the joys, all the happiness, the smiles, the long nights, late mornings, and arguments.  The making up, the making out.  The birth of our child, and all the moments that make up a happy life.  Then the view of a scene of you walking down the aisle in a white dress that makes you look like an angel walking down the stairs of heaven to be with me.
         Then it clicks, this isn’t my life.  It’s a life that wasn’t meant for me.  A life I will never enjoy.  But if not me, then who?
         Then they start to hit.  One, two... my vest takes the bullets, but I still feel the pressure and pain in my chest.  Three, four… more shots hit.  I don’t know how much more my armored plates can take.  And with each bullet that hits comes another view of that life I’ll never see with my real eyes.  Just the ones in my head…and my heart.  Views of a life so close, but just out of reach.  A life that could have been, but when at the crossroads of decision a different turn was taken,  a road taken out of misguided sight, lack of knowledge, of maybe just fear of the outcome or rejection.  A life that could have been.  Each shot brings joy, sorrow, love, and a sense of loss.  But lost for what?  Loss for this lost life or is it loss for what I have or loss for what I never will have.  Another hit, this one makes it through; there is pain, then burning, then more pain.  Then warmth moving slowly down my chest like the slow creeping flow of sap down the side of a maple tree.  And with each beat of my heart another pulse of blood runs.  Then a dull ebbing sense of coldness that flows toward unconsciousness.  My last thoughts as darkness takes over are about this lost life, lost love, this lost dream and not the dream that everyone has for themselves, but the dream of another existence, another time of life.
         …then as I wake up again, in this place so unknown to my not-so-normal existence, a tear forms and builds and slowly makes it’s way down my cheek to my chin.  As I sit up it drops to the wound on my chest and not just the wound on the outside.  But the one on the inside as well.