maybe it wasn't b's alarm going off and the repeated snooze-hitting that kept me awake from 5:30 on this morning. maybe it was some sixth sense about today, that it was going to be - and i honestly am not exaggerating - the worst day of my life. now, to be fair, i've had it pretty good all these years. but even still.
soon, very soon, i will have to start using words like iraq and war and god help us and why the fuck is he/are we there fighting this godforsaken, criminal war, again? with the name of one of my. people.
one of my people.
one of my people whose kids will miss him like hell, whose wife shouldn't have to be without him for a year, whose parents won't sleep well for a whole year and whose sister might lose her fucking mind knowing he's there.
a lot of people have people ... there ... i know. and maybe if it were for something i believed in or could even understand the rationale for, it wouldn't be so much like someone had kicked me in the gut or ripped out my eyes and replaced them with cotton balls. maybe then, maybe. but not for this war. not for this sorry excuse for foreign policy. not for this president who refuses to grow a pair, admit his mistake, and change fucking course, for the love of all things holy. not this, not there.
i am not okay with this.