I lie as still as I can, any movement will wake him. The nights are the worst, when fear looms heavy in the dark. And the sadness. I am so sad for him. Death is so much harder on those that are left behind. I imagine what it must be like for him, watching me die. A part of me hopes that the soldier in him is used to death, to losing mates to it, but I don’t think that’s so. I think he feels more deeply than I do, just doesn’t show it.
a b&w photo Ron took, merged with one of mine and worked in photoshop