From an American veteran:
The peace that I expected to enjoy back in civilian life had been usurped by a vicious battle over policy and leadership; race and upbringing; haves and have-nots; Americans and, well, Americans; a battle of which everyone was a veteran.
America and I are the same: both of us weary from a war we are not fully capable of understanding, that we feel we cannot win. She is on a post, fiercely clenching a cold rifle, enemies amongst her. She feels that indescribable fear that comes from a shot fired in the dark, too close for comfort, and the deafening silence of an unanswered radio. The danger she senses is immediate, inescapable, all-consuming. She too has her pride hidden from view, experiences the sleepless nights, the boiling anger; the very things that I thought would separate me from ever again experiencing her embrace.
She and I both search in desperation for a target, someone to kill; someone upon whom to hang the blame for the painful loss of a life, perhaps a dream, that is no more.