Coming Home

My life felt like it was black and gray. Without Rae in it, everything felt like it had been drained of color. I’d had to identify her body. It didn’t even look like her. Her fair was stringy and covered in blood. Her face was gray and there were holes in her. I had seen dead bodies before. Of course I had, being in the military and all.

I had seen so many dead bodies, but seeing her like that, it broke me. I’d had to leave the room after verifying that she was in fact my ex-wife. And it fucking hurt. It hurt so much to say those words. I had hoped against fucking hope that they had been wrong. But they hadn’t been. She was dead, and my life was colorless.

Charlie couldn’t look at me. Every time he did, his eyes went red and he turned away. We were two ghosts floating in the house. Neither of us had words for the other. Why would we? We were connected by a beautiful, magnetic woman, and she was gone.

Did I love Charlie? Yes, I did. But he would never take over the role of Rae. No one could be my Rae. There was so much history there, and life was pointless without her. I had finally gotten over my depression and PTSD, as much as I could. And then she died, and I wanted to die too.

“Matt, come on. It’s time.” Brian pulled me out of my dark thoughts and helped me get dressed. We had a big day today. And I needed to look good for it. “Brooks is helping Charlie, okay?”

I nodded. This was going to be the biggest day of my life since leaving the military. The worst part was that this moment wouldn’t be shared with Rae, but this moment was happening because of Rae. I knew if she was still here, she would be so proud of Charlie and me. We were doing this because of her. She was going to help spark a movement… I hoped.

Brian pulled on my shirt for me. He had to make sure that I was okay, and I knew they felt my pain. Rae was a big part of their lives too. She was the very reason that I had written my first song, my first real song. Everything that Avenged was, was in part because of her.

Once I was dressed, Brian helped me out of the room. It was just like a few months ago when the guys didn’t want to let me out of their sight because they were afraid I was going to kill myself. I had thought the same thing earlier. And while I wanted to die, I didn’t want to kill myself. I would just be okay if a bus hit me. Rae wouldn’t want me to kill myself.

Charlie popped out of the room wearing his uniform, just as I was. We were taking the advice of the Millennials and of Martin Luther King. If we dressed in our Sunday best, people might actually listen to us. If we dressed like we were going to get an award, they might actually hear our words. So we wore what we knew would get attention. We wore our dress blues.
**************************************************************************************
“My name is Charles Anderson, and I used to be in the Marine Corps.” Charlie addressed the crowd and the TV cameras. This was our moment, and we were not going to pull punches. “I decided to join the military when I was eighteen. It was the only way I could go on and be successful in life.

“I had grown up poor. We barely had enough money for rent and food, and my mother took damn good care of my siblings and me. I knew that if I wanted out of the poor cycle and a college degree, I had to do something else. I had to do something that would better myself.

“The Marine Corps called my name and shortly after, I took it upon myself to join the Force Recon division. That is where I spent many, many years. I killed and watched people get killed. I was taught how to fire a high-grade weapon. I was taught the proper way to handle my weapon. We were taught to clean and to train and to fire. If I put my gun up, it was to kill.

“The Constitution grants us the right to bear arms, and I am an advocate for the Second Amendment. I have my own firearms at home. The difference is that I was trained in how to use them. I think if we are going to continue on the path of guns in this country, something needs to change.

“We cannot allow every day civilians to have military grade weapons. These assault rifles are not meant for public consumption. If we are going to continue to have guns in this nation, we need stricter laws. And after so many tragedies, I thought we would finally change our ways of thinking.

“Yet here we are. We allow people to die because of the NRA. We allow people to die because we think stricter gun laws take away our Constitutional rights. This should be eye-opening. We all say we support our troops, but we sure as shit aren’t doing anything to support them here, at home.

“For all the ones we lost, for Lieutenant Rae Martinez, times need to change.” Charlie stepped away from the podium and sat down. I was amazed he was an in control of his emotions as he was. I didn’t think I could be that composed, and I was about to show it.

“We’ve heard a lot of people speak today,” I said, staring into the crowd. “And I may just be echoing their sentiments, but this issue is personal for me. I served in the very beginnings of Iraq. I was a part of the first onslaught. I saw things that would make many people throw up or cringe or cry. And all of these things were horrific.

“I saw young children with their bellies descended from hunger. I saw kids without limbs from roadside bombs. The things I saw will always stay with me. And I committed many sins. I know that if Hell exists, that’s where I’m going. What I did to protect my team are not things that I will ever be forgiven for. And that’s the way it has to be.

“One of the worst things that happened to me was knowing my best friend died. He died from an RPG. He was a skilled damn pilot. I didn’t see this; I wasn’t there. I was there when Bin Laden died. I watched him die, and I hoped that would be the end of this long, brutal war. It wasn’t.

“And I came home, broken and beaten down. And I hoped that I would not see war again. But every day, I live a new war. I hear gunshots and watch children and young, black people die. I see on the news our nation being torn apart because of political parties. It sickens me. It saddens me. I’m still at war all these years later.

“Then I watch as people who shouldn’t have guns, get guns. I watch them make a name for mentally ill people. Every person that shoots up a club or a movie theater or a school is mentally ill. I suffer from depression and PTSD, and I don’t want to go shoot up a place. It’s not mentally ill people. These are people who shouldn’t have guns.

“I thought that maybe after twenty-six babies got killed from a shooter, we would change our stance on guns. We let children die in the name of our Second Amendment right. How many more people have to die for us to take this seriously?

“Do we need another Columbine or Aurora or Sandy Hook or Orlando? Do we need another Fort Hood? Do we need more pointless death when every day overseas more and more people are dying? This should not be an argument.

“Stricter gun laws or watch us slowly become a nation of the oppressed. It is going to happen, and I cannot stand for it. I lost the love of my life. I lost my best friend. I have lost myself… all to war. This needs to change, and it needs to change today.”

Notes

I am back loves! I'm still having a rough go. My back is all shades of fucked up from my car crash, but so it goes. I think writing is helping me feel better though.