Her words shot me like bullets, but the adrenaline forced me ignore it. Her eyes like daggers, her hands shaking violently, as she mercilessly watched me bleed out. The screaming bullets paralyzed me, and I stood for an eternity, watching her eyes fill with tears. Then there a was silence.
Was the war over?
Or had it only just begun?
What was her next move?
Should I stay?
Or should I tuck my tail and run?
She quietly pointed to the door, offering me a retreat. I stared blankly, my weapons empty on ammo. The only thing I had left were bandages, and an open wound.
She slid down, and screamed for a medic. I sat beside her. I patiently handed her a peace treaty, that boldly stated:
“Divorce”.
She signed it quietly.
I signed it quietly.
And the war for love, was done.
And now I notice that no matter peacetime or wartime, the battle scars will ache. The memories will creep up your spine and attack. Yet, no matter what, we are all mindless soldiers in a silly fight for love.