Draft One.

Then, I met R and he told me about a friend he had in the military named Greg. He had passed away. Some fucked up shit I can’t remember the details, but he wasn’t supposed to pass. He was mistaken for the wrong person, wrong time/place. I cried and felt pain deep inside me for such a terrible thing. You can’t help but not feel that impact of something so tragic. R had told me about his dining in, how they set an empty place at the table for their lost brothers. I know he was thinking about Greg. How he’s still coping.

Then, my step-grandfather died. I didn’t cry, I don’t know why. I hadn’t seen him in a few years. I had issues with him. I wanted to cry, I wanted to feel something. What impacted me so much, is seeing my Grandmother in such pain. Still, almost a year later, she constantly deals with pain daily.

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